Feeling Ill
by Mach2K
Summary: Zelda breaks down with a mysterious illness. Desperate for a cure, her father corrals adventurous young men to the castle to go forth in search of a rare plant that may help her. Will Link survive the challenges presented by the king and beyond?
1. Chapter 1

Zelda was coughing again. She felt weak and exhausted, and had for a week or so. There was no concern at first, because something had been going around anyway, but when it hadn't cleared up after a few days, her father had the royal doctor summoned. Zelda hid herself away in her rooms as much as possible, shuttering the windows and curled up under the bed sheets. Her coughs grew steadily harsher by the day, and at the end of the sixth night she noticed her kerchief was smattered with blood.

She would sit up in her bed, the sheets and her neck soaked with sweat. Again, Zelda coughed, this time for a prolonged period, her back aching and her throat scrubbed raw. Talking had become a chore for her, so instead she would write scribbled messages on scrolls of paper, or one of her handmaidens would speak for her. But most of the time, she slept.

Her father grew concerned after too long of this. The doctor came in and took her pulse with feathery thin fingers, pressing them to her wrist. He looked in her eyes and ears, tapped the bottoms of her feet, and finally applied leeches to her arms and feet to suck out the evil humor.

It didn't work.

Instead, she got worse, sleeping nearly all day, her breath in shallow gasps. The king struggled to eat, his worry consuming him. As he sat, torn with worry, one of his advisors approached him, clearing his throat.

"My Lord? About the young princess…"

The king stared wearily at him, bags under his eyes. The fidgety advisor clasped his hands together, huddled under his heavily-embroidered robes. He was a weak and sniveling man, and incredibly timid.

"I… have heard of her condition. I might know of a way to cure her."

The king grew very still, and he narrowed his eyes slowly. "If this is a joke, you will pray you were never separated from your mother's womb," he warned in a low, growling tone.

The advisor shook his head rapidly. "No, my lord, I am most earnest." The king waved his hand, granting permission for the advisor to speak on.

"I know of a… of a plant, grown deep in the desert, that might cure her. It's a small bush, with massive white flowers and tiny green leaves. You collect j… just the leaves, and steep them like a tea, and have her drink it. It will help her within a week."

The king stood up from his throne and stepped up to the advisor. "Are you quite serious about this?"

"Yes, lord."

"If I find that this is an error, and my daughter does not recover, it will be your head."

Again, the advisor nodded. The king sat back down, exhaustion and worry making him weak. "Tell me how to get this plant."

Link lifted his head when he heard the clopping of horse hooves, peeking his head above the corn stalks that reached his chin. He could see two knights on horseback, with banners bearing the king's insignia flapping in their breeze. He could see Kortos, the old man that owned the farm and fields, approaching the knights and waving one arm. Link remained poised where he was, slowly letting go of his earth tiller and letting his sore back straighten.

One knight handed Kortos a scroll tied with ribbon. He fingered the edge, and Link shook his head. Surely the knights knew that they couldn't read? The other knight turned his head and spied Link, and Link tensed where he was, staring back in defiance. The knight pointed at Link, then to the ground before his horse. Link flexed his fingers and walked forward, aware that he was dusty and dirty, that there was manure on his boots and chaff in his hair. Kortos handed the scroll back to one of the knights, and he nodded imperceptibly before opening the scroll and reciting.

"The king has issued an invitation to the adventurous men of Hyrule, to compete in a triathalon of strength, speed, and wit. The champion of the competition shall receive a position in the court and special recognition for his efforts." The knight rolled up the scroll again and handed it to Kortos, who fixed Link with a steely-eyed gaze.

Link cleared his throat and tried to look calm. He wanted to go. More than anything, he wanted to get away from the farm and explore the castle grounds, the market, just once. He was always itching for a new place to be, and this seemed an excellent opportunity.

"The triathalon begins in one week. I recommend getting to the castle as early as possible, to find somewhere to stay in town. The competition will extend over one w-"

"He's not going," Kortos snapped suddenly. "We're very busy with the end-of-summer harvest, as you can see, and we need all the help we can get."

Link felt a bite of irritation. Kortos was not the kindest of employers; he worked him unfairly, and when Link was finally given leave at sundown for rest and eating, he was so sore and sunburnt that he could hardly think. His skin had turned a deep gold, and his hair was bleached by the sun. But he kept his silence, despite the rebellion that stirred in him.

The knights did not linger; they left almost immediately after Kortos' outburst with barely a nod in Link's direction. Link himself went back to the fields, picking up his tools once more. But when Kortos shouted, "you'll be working extra to make up for that lost time dawdling!" the seed of rebellion began to grow.


	2. Chapter 2

It was impossible to stay awake. Link stretched out on his cot, taking slow deep breaths and weighing his options. If he left now, he forfeited any money he earned in the past few months, slaving away in the sweltering heat. But if he did go to the castle, and if he _won_…

Link flung himself to his feet when the moon was just past its zenith. He made up his mind, and the refreshing idea of escape, of exploring somewhere new, and of never having to slave in the fields revitalized him. It woke him up like a jolt of cold water. He hurriedly packed a small bag with his possessions, and crept to the tiny window in the spare room they stowed him in. Link closed his eyes, but there was no going back now.

He pushed open the window in one swift movement and climbed out with a grunt, kicking his feet a bit and landing poorly on his stomach. But it was done now, it was too late. He stretched and looked back briefly, grinning, then turned north, towards the castle. Even if he didn't win, it was worth it just because he was finally able to kick off the chains.

Link started walking. It would take until morning for him to get to the castle. He still had at least a few rupees in store from the last farming job, and hopefully he could rent a room for the month. The air had never smelled so fresh; now and again he spied night creatures prowling the lands around him. He closed his eyes and half-dreamed as he walked, his feet navigating the vast terrain effortlessly.

Zelda coughed, a soft thing at first, but then she curled up and began to hack horribly. She turned on her side, pressing a kerchief to her mouth. One of her handmaids pressed a cool cloth to her forehead. The blankets were shed from the bed entirely, and she rolled around in a loose gown on the mattress. Her kerchief was soaked with blood now, and she drew in a deep, rattling breath, circles under her eyes. She was losing weight as well; when she wasn't sleeping, she was coughing. Mostly, she slept.

The advisor sat in a chair across from the king, his thin fingers wrapped together. "There is one bush grown in the entirety of the desert."

Zelda's father leaned back in his chair, frowning. "That's property of the Gerudo king."

"Yes, it is, unfortunately, and it is considered a holy symbol by the Gerudo people. As such, it's well protected by a slew of traps and guards. They will not give up those leaves easily." The advisor felt more confident now in this private audience, and he flexed his fingers. "But it wouldn't be wise to send in your army, would it? As the Gerudo might consider it an act of hostility against them."

The king nodded slowly. "The last thing we need is a second war with them."

"Send in a young man, someone willing to fight for their country. Someone that they will never believe is a soldier."

"A young man, a peasant?" The king frowned. "But how will we select them?"

"A competition, your highness. Make it sound like an event; something to test their wit and their strength. The winner is the one we will send."

The king nodded. "That sounds excellent." He smiled, and for the first time in weeks, he felt relaxed. There was a plan in place. "Draw up messages for all of the eligible young men."

Link opened his eyes with the warm sun, blinking open his eyes. When he was functioning again, he realized there was a massive crowd at the castle gates of men similar to him in age, most of them clutching the scrolls for the competition. He stared up at the massive castle walls, and the few tiers of the castle he could see beyond it. Suddenly he was nervous; what if he failed? This was foolish. He gave up a perfectly good job; Kortos would already know that he'd run off, as he usually woke him up before sunrise for a quick breakfast. He flexed his hands and took off his knapsack, carrying it protectively in his arms instead.

The line moved slowly, and it was nearly noon by the time he got in. Once inside the castle walls, he paused to take his time and explore the marketplace. The sights and sounds of the market filled his ears and eyes, and the rich smells of roasting food, exotic spices, and rare flowers made him walk slowly. He had no idea that the life outside of never-ending farm jobs could be so varied and fascinating.

Link stopped by a massive wooden sign, engraved with a dedication of good will to the ailing princess. He stopped and stared at the wood-burned image for a few minutes, something beyond his rebellious urges awakening. He felt protective of her, fiercely so. The burned wood gave her eyes a sadness in their depths. He knew that he would win the competition for her, and hopefully take place as a knight in court, so that nothing could harm her. He clenched his hands into fists and moved on, more determined than before.

It took him the better part of the day to find somewhere to stay. Most of the inns were already booked full by the time he'd gotten into the marketplace, and the few that were left were the overly priced and located on the same strip as the main market, or tucked into back corners, dirty and dingy and charging nearly as much. In the end, he walked into a cramped and dirty bar, sitting down at the scarred wooden counter and waiting patiently for the apathetic tender to notice him.

"What can I get you?" he finally growled.

Link pulled a few rupees from his pocket. "Glass of milk, please."

The tender snorted and chuckled. "Don't have none, you'll have to settle for something a little stronger." The bar was fairly quiet for how early in the day it was, but a few old men lurking in the dark corners snickered to themselves. Link cleared his throat, trying to think of something. "Ale, then."

The tender thumped down a dirty mug half-filled with a murky drink. Link turned over the money and reluctantly took a drink, cringing in response to the sour and warm alcohol. The bartender barked out a laugh and shook his head. "Not used to a real drink, are you, milk boy?"

Link glowered at him. "No, I suppose I'm not." He took another drink, forcing it down. "D'ye know of a good place to stay for a while?"

"Ah, you're in town for the tournament, of course." The tender rested his massive knuckles on the bar top, leaning over towards Link. "How much money you got on you, boy?"

Link frowned. "Not very much."

The tender leaned towards him, looking him over with a smirk. "You look strong. If you're willin' to work for it, I'll let you stay here." Link studied the bartender for a few minutes, trying to decide if he should trust the man or not. "See," the bartender continued, when he noticed Link's hesitation, "business is going t'explode in the next month because of the triathalon. I could use some extra help. And instead of a wage, I'll let you stay here and feed you now 'n again."

Link hesitated still, staring into his dirty mug.

"Look kid, if you're not happy with it here, I'll let you leave, simple as pie. What've you got to lose?"

Finally, he nodded, and reached out to shake the man's hand. "You've got a deal, sir."


	3. Chapter 3

The work was harder than the work he'd done on the farm, but in many ways it was easier. Instead of broiling in the sun, he worked in the coolness of the bar, polishing the counter top and tables, washing the floors, and cleaning glasses and mugs. When the massive shipments of barrels of ale came in, he was the one to roll them into the back of the tavern, shifting the oldest ones forward and putting them in the back row. He wasn't roused until midday, which at first was difficult for him, as he was so used to getting up early. On those few early mornings, he would slip out of the bar and explore the castle market.

It had been pushed back closer to the gates, to make room for the massive arena being hastily patched together. All was covered with heavy blankets, and guards roamed the outer ring. The construction crew stayed within the castle, so that they would not be tempted to wander to the bars and talk loosely about the setup. Link didn't care terribly about cheating; he'd felt an inhuman confidence and calm towards the event since he saw the image of Zelda on the wooden sign. It was strange.

Zelda rubbed her eyes and forced herself, slowly, to sit up. An attendant helped her, one hand on her back. "Do you need anything, your majesty?"

"I want to go to the window," she gasped softly.

The attendant started to shake her head. "That is not a very wise idea, dear."

"P… please." Zelda took deep breaths. "I… want to see."

The attendant nodded and moved away, opening one of the windows. The sun shone into her room for the first time in days, since the sickness had incapacitated her to her chambers. A fresh wind swirled around the room, cooling the sweat on Zelda's forehead. She forced herself out of bed, the attendant helping her and holding her hands, leading her to the window.

Zelda stared out at the marketplace, at the labyrinthine obstacle course they were constructing. She knew about the competition being planned, but her father, on his few visits, had not elaborated on why he was constructing such an expensive setup so suddenly. She looked up at the roofs of the buildings, taking deep breaths of the cool air. For the first time, her lungs felt open, her throat didn't ache, and she felt refreshed.

She went still as her eyes locked onto a young man, standing out amid the early morning light. He was staring at the castle, staring at her. Zelda shivered, deep inside. There was something familiar about him, something in the way he stood. She shivered again and sneezed, and the sneezing set off a bought of coughing. Her attendant gasped in worry and pulled her away, locking the windows up tight again.

Zelda was ushered back to her bed, her assistant tucking her back in. "Perhaps you can handle some tea, today."

"I would like to try that," Zelda gasped, her coughing fit having receded.

But by the time the attendant returned with tea, she was in a deep sleep, worry in her brows and blood on her lips.

Link gasped when he saw Zelda, shivering. He reached to the back of his neck and tried to pet down the hair that stood on end, but it wasn't working. Somehow, in some eerie way, he'd been able to make out the details of her face with a stunning clarity. But weren't they too far apart for that to be possible? Link was starting to doubt the intelligence of coming to the castle at all. What was happening to him? Finally, he crawled down from the bar roof and headed inside, going to his tiny room and curling up on the cot there. He would not dwell on this any longer.

The morning of the beginning of the competition, bartender Togo woke Link much earlier than usual. The sky was a soft grey from the rising sun. Link yawned and dressed, glad that Togo had him go to bed early that previous night, opting to clean the bar on his own. Link splashed his face with cold water and combed his fingers back through his hair, making sure his breeches and tunic were clean and in good shape. The scroll had mentioned nothing about what to bring, so he went empty-handed with a bite of crusty bread and a small mug of ale, something Link had learned to tolerate in the past week. He wasn't the only man up so early; others were yawning and dragging themselves through the streets. A small crowd had started to form around the gates, of people eager to see what was held inside. The crews had been up late into the night to finish the final touches, the pounding of their hammers echoing through the enclosed town.

Link looked around at some of his fellow competitors. Some men were much older, with muscles like great barrels, stretched taught against the skin, and shaved heads that gleamed in the morning sun. Others looked like haughty young dukes, their noses upturned and their clothing immaculate. Even a few were much older men, farming veterans of the wars, their shirts worn and their eyes watery. Most of them were carrying some sort of weapon; short swords, longstaves, a few even carried axes.

They stood gathered until the sun was over the horizon in its entirety, and the king stepped out onto his balcony overlooking the gates. He stretched out both arms to silence the clapping that had begun, and dropped them to his sides. The king looked old, and as he began to speak, a few whispers started in the crowd.

"Good people of Hyrule! May the Goddesses smile upon you all on this day!" He looked around with a weary sigh. "The first official Hyrulian triathlon has begun!" The king raised his hands again to stop the few cheers. "Being a knight in Hyrule is one of the most dignified and honorable positions one can achieve! To be a knight, one must show great strength, great speed, and great character!" He tried to smile. "I do not doubt that all of you display these traits. It is not only these aspects that will bring you to victory! It is teamwork, perseverance, and intelligence, as well! He who demonstrates such abilities will be the new knight champion of Hyrule!" The king ended his speech in a thunder, and the people cheered again with more enthusiasm. "Let the competitors into the gates!" he boomed to the guards below.

The ornate metal doors creaked open, and slowly the competitors trickled inward. Around them and before them they could see the obstacle course. It extended around the castle most of the way, and was made out of fresh-cut, unpainted wood. Several guards started to divide the crowd, trying to make equal groupings of men and taking away the weapons they'd brought with them.

Link was stuck in a collective with two sneering pomps and an old farmer. The aristocrats ignored them both, talking to themselves about a celebration dinner once the triathlon was over. Each one was trying to outbrag the other about the women and wine they would have.

The guard captain approached the divided cluster of men, clearing his throat for silence. "Good day, gentlemen. As you are well aware, this triathlon will take a month. The first part of this competition is endurance. What you see around you, the obstacle course, is intended to take all of you two weeks to complete. There are periodic resting areas in the obstacle with water and food. Half of you will start at this end-" he pointed to the right, "and the other half will start on the other end, for all of you to meet at the end point for the second part of the competition. You may start!"

It was a furious scramble to the beginnings of the obstacle courses. Link was nearly knocked over by the crowd surging behind him. The guards split the men up, ensuring there was an even number of competitors on both sides of the obstacle course. Link watched as they scrambled into the eerily silent triathlon, huffing and blowing as they scaled the ramps and leaning walls around the track. He shook out his arms and started running, climbing the first wall with little difficulty. He jumped down on the opposite side, keeping up a quick pace but not running like the others. A two-week long endurance course and they were already wasting most of their energy.

It started out easily enough; scaling walls and ducking around poles with freely-spinning soft mallets at the top, intending to smack the competitor aside without hurting him. The next wall he scaled, though, dropped him down lower than the opposite side. Ahead was a long stretch of wooden planks over a massive ditch at least eight feet deep. Some of the planks intersected across each other and connected, supported underneath by massive poles, but there was no one path to the other side. The group had hesitated. Link watched as the first, a young farmhand not much older than himself, ventured out onto the planks.

He took a deep breath when he reached the edge of the first one, bending his knees and hopping to the nearest plank, wobbling uneasily for a few minutes before regaining his footing. As he went to the next plank, others started to mill across carefully, no more than one man on a plank at a time.

It was this course that the first man fell out.

One of the huge, musclebound men tried to jump too far, and he fell short of the next plank. He fell on his feet and his knees buckled; he sunk into the dirt by an inch or two. The men stopped in their travel across the planks and stared as the massive man rose shakily to his feet, ashamedly climbing up a narrow rope ladder on the opposite side of the ditch. A guard approached him and escorted him through the guard's path to the first checkpoint to sit and rest and have a drink. Link nodded to himself when he saw this display; the disqualified competitor had been one of the ones to run in, and he'd already exhausted himself.

While all eyes were averted, a man nearest to Link's plank hopped on. Link wobbled uneasily , bending his knees and flailing his arms to keep his balance, almost falling off the edge entirely. With this, the hopping restarted, though Link thought he heard a muttered curse behind his back. By the time the group reached the other end, several more men had dropped out, mostly the burliest and the oldest. They were rushed away to the nearest resting area for drink and food.

When they were back on solid ground, Link paused to stretch his legs, looking around at some of the other competitors, then up at the castle. He was trying to see if the princess was watching, but there was no sign of her. Instead, on a balcony far above was an old man in a dark cloak, staring down at them and gripping the railing tightly. Link frowned and rubbed his arms, shaking it off. He moved on to the next course, more determined than ever.

AN: Hey guys! I just wanted to say thanks for reading. Even if I don't reply to them, I do read all of your reviews and appreciate them  Funny thing- after I started writing this, I got sick the next day! Spooky, huh?


	4. Chapter 4

Few people had dropped out by the end of the first day. They'd lost maybe eight or so total, and there were still at least two hundred men left. Link stretched out on a bench in their resting area with his meal; bread, cheese and some roasted venison. His legs ached; the rest of the obstacle course had been dodging swinging soft mallets on pendulums, more wall-climbing, but at steeper inclines, and running across shaky bridges that wobbled and were missing planks.

At each break, there were wooden gates keeping them from moving onward through the obstacle course ahead of time. The guards would open them in the morning. He could not see the men that were disqualified; they had been escorted off the track not long after they ate. He stared morosely at the guard captain that approached them now.

"Congratulations, gentlemen," the captain announced. "You have survived the first day. But do not assume that because the first day was fairly easy means that the rest of the competition will be. You may rest for the night inside the castle walls. The second day of the triathlon will begin at sunrise, and do not be late."

He turned and left them again. Link sighed and finished his dinner, listening to the men around him talking, bragging, and laughing openly, eager for the next day.

-

The king looked up from his barely-eaten dinner, nodding to his newest chief advisor. "How is the competition going?"

The advisor removed his heavy black cloak and bowed before answering. "The competition is going smoothly, Your Majesty."

The king nodded and directed him to sit at the table. "I cannot think you enough for your counsel in these difficult times. They… the reports are that Zelda has not woken up again since the competition began." The king drained his glass of wine, and his advisor bowed his head.

"I am sure, Your Majesty, that she will be back on her feet and spritely in no time. She is young and strong."

The king nodded his agreement. "Forgive me in this, but I do not have the energy for a long conversation today, even with treasured company."

"Of course, Your Majesty." The advisor knew when he was being dismissed, and he rose now, bowing again before shuffling backwards out of the room, not daring to turn his back on royalty. Once he had safely escaped, the chief advisor rushed to his rooms. He latched the door tightly behind himself and immediately rushed to a tall, narrow cabinet that resided in the corner of his room. He opened the doors and shuddered with excitement. Inside of the cabinet was a massive round mirror, its frame wickedly ornate like thorny bushes and painted black.

He called out, "Master!" and, taking up a curvy-bladed dagger, he slashed open his palm and smeared the blood across the mirror's surface. It seeped into the glass, and the mirror turned black, a haunting, gaunt, olive face rising up as if out of smoke. The advisor bowed his head deeply. "Master Ganondorf, the plans have begun."

Ganondorf chuckled deep in his throat, baring perfectly white teeth. "Excellent work, Dirmane. The princess, she ails yet?"

"Yes, your lordship. She has not woken from slumber in three days; I soaked her bedsheets and nightgown in a potion of restless sleep, to absorb into her skin."

"Excellent; such a powerful application should keep her unconscious for many a day." Ganondorf's eyes glowed. "How goes the competition?"

"I believe I have found your adversary, Lord. He is a young man with pale hair."

"Good! Ensure he wins!" Ganondorf boomed. "I have no doubt that you will fail me in this."

"I will not, Lord."

Ganondorf's face rippled away from the surface, and Dirmane shut the cabinet doors tightly, locking them with a key he always wore on his person. He bandaged his hand and laughed weakly, maniacally. Already, Ganondorf's plans were spiraling into place; kill Zelda, kill the king, and kill any that might succeed against his plans for dominating Hyrule once and for all.

-

Link grunted as he hefted himself upward, barely by his fingertips. They'd been led down into a sharp incline, so deep into the ground that it was clay under their feet. Now they were climbing upward again over crumbling wet soil, scrabbling in the dirt. Link gritted his teeth and climbed towards the sun, his shirt soaked with sweat and getting muddy. One of the old men had passed out midway up the incline, and he was taken away for water and resting. The men with the largest muscles that remained had already scaled the hill, not caring if they kicked dirt into their opponents' eyes.

Link finally reached the top and rose to his knees, mindful of how the pile shifted and sunk under his weight. Ahead he could see more of the obstacle course; a massive stretch of water they would have to swim across, another 'hopping course' but with only poles and no narrow planks, and the rest was too fuzzy to see.

Someone shoved Link from behind, and he turned to see a sneering aristocrat, furious at the state his clothes had taken and that some simpleton peasant was holding up his climb. "Move on, you worthless waste of life!" he snarled. Link clenched his hands into fists and descended on his stomach, sliding downward over the wet earth and feeling it crawl up his shirt. At least the water obstacle course would clean him off.

But that was not to be as fun as he expected, either; the water had a thick layer of scum settling overtop, with flies big as olives buzzing lazily over the surface. A few of the nobility finally threw in their towels, refusing to splash through flotsam. The first to willingly dive in was the same farm boy who'd been the first to take on the original hopping course. He cut a path of clear water through the muck and slurry as he splashed to the other end. Finally, the rest followed, most opting to chase after the barrel-chested blacksmiths and butchers because of the wide streak they left in the moat.

Link dove in, holding his breath and his eyes shut tight until his head broke the surface of the scummy water. The flies were angrily swarming over their heads, and the water was not as cold as he'd hoped. He dragged himself out at the edge, digging his fingers into the tough surface. It was barely noon, and they still had ages to go.

-

By the end of the first week, Link's fingertips and palms were mottled with thick calluses. His feet ached and he stank from sweat and swamp water. It was little comfort that he wasn't the only one in such a state. Link turned when he saw movement, and he had to dig his nails into the wooden bench he rested on when he realized it was the guard captain. The sight of this man was starting to grate on his nerves.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he called. The men turned reluctantly to face him. "You're already halfway done with the first challenge. Pat yourselves on the back!" No one moved, and the guard captain cleared his throat. "The next part of this challenge, you will find yourself armed to do battle. Don't get too excited," he added quickly, "because your weapons will be wooden. You will face enemies in this next week of challenges. Some animals, others men much like yourselves, and on top of it, there will be similar challenges to what you have already faced. You are disqualified if your opponent knocks you down and gets his blade to your throat. Good luck."

With that, the guard captain took leave of the men. Link turned back to his meager dinner and ate in quick, hungry bites. This was too much; he hadn't been nearly as ready as he thought he was for the scale of this challenge. But that was why they'd been so elaborate and ridiculous; to test his loyalty to the king and Hyrule, and to prepare him to begin training as an official knight. Right? He could do it; he could win this. Link squared his shoulders, and once he'd finished his meal, he followed the other men into their sleeping quarters.

"Sleeping quarters" was putting it loosely. It was a tent set up to one side of the rest area with a collection of cots, blankets, and thin pillows. Link tried to curl up in corners as much as possible, staring out at his opponents. There was an uneasy tenseness since the first man had been disqualified, and everyone was suspicious of each other. One more week, and there were still dozens of them, waiting for the next person to fail, hoping they would be the successor.

-

The next morning, Link was handed a stubby wooden sword and a crude square shield. He gripped the pommel tightly in his left hand, uncomfortable at first. He hadn't played with swords since he was a child, and even then they were sticks. His shield had one loop in the backside for his fist, and it barely covered his forearm. A few older farmers and smiths joked that they felt like kids again, while some nobles rolled their eyes at their inadequate weapons. Link swung his sword around, careful of the others, trying to get a feel for the weapon. The guards opened the gates to the final leg of the first competition.

They stormed in like warriors, some even giving battle cries. Link hovered somewhere in the middle, trying to keep an eye out for their challenges. They rushed into a steep incline, and Link was at the top long enough to see spinning training dummies with soft mallets for hands. He slowed down to trail behind, the majority of men that weren't paying attention getting knocked down. It was this first trial that knocked out the most of them in a handful; Link kept low to avoid the spinning hammers, crawling out from under then and then working on the ascent back to level ground, following and being followed by others.

Once they got up to the top, Link remained crouched, trying to see what was in the distance. More spinning dummies, and a few guards made up in soft armor, waiting the challenge. Beyond that there was too much of a curve, and he couldn't see at all.

They followed the next descent into a pit of spinning poles, parallel to the ground and at ankle height. The men that tried to run through them got taken down quickly, some of the lightweight poles snapping under their weight. Guards scrambled down into the pits, halting the competitors and shouting orders that stopped the poles spinning; some sort of underground mechanism controlled by other guards or errand boys. That explained why they spun at different speeds and in different directions. Link was poised on the decline still, trying to decide a course of action, when someone shoved into him from behind and shouted, "Sorry!"

As he stumbled, Link forced himself to jump, and he barely managed to land onto the flat center of one of the spinning pinions. He wobbled and wavered, flailing his arms in a rather ridiculous fashion to keep his balance. When he found it, he glanced back and glared at whoever'd pushed him. From there, he started hopping. Once he realized it was just the same sort of challenge with a twist, it was easy. He hopped from the last one onto the next incline, forcing himself against the dry, crumbling dirt, and up he went.

All day, it went like this. They had not yet fought any actual soldiers, just training dummies and training courses that knocked them flat on their backs. By the end of the first day, their numbers had dwindled drastically. Link was certain he'd lost more weight in the past week than he had all summer working for Kortos. But he'd gotten muscular as well. His clothes were getting threadbare though; he hoped he would get some replacements soon. His muscles no longer ached like they had at the beginning. He sat near the remaining twelve or so contestants; the strongest and fastest. He stirred his bowl of stew with his spoon, lifting his head slightly when he heard two older men chatting idly.

"… awfully random time for a competition, don't you think? Right in the middle of a harvest and everything."

"Oh for sure. And the king hardly even watches; his chief advisor does.

"He's a creep, that's for sure. Can't stand that snivelly little frig."

"The king hain't been looking all that good anyway."

"I heard somethin' happened to the princess."

"Oh yeah?"

Link tensed, biting into his wooden spoon to keep down his urge to turn and interrogate the men on what they supposedly knew. The two conversationalists had raised a very good point; why had they decided to start a competition at a crucial time for farmers? Was the princess alright? How ill was she? Between the crude wooden sign and this spurious gossip, Link was starting to truly suspect an ulterior motive for the king's little competition. He finished his dinner and sat up for a little while, staring up into the sky with a frown on his face.

-

The next morning was hot; Link was sweating before he even left their sleeping quarters. He had his sword and shield on hand, and he ate a small bowl of oatmeal, mulling over his worries for the next step of the race. His boots were starting to wear thin as well. He just had to keep his mind on the prize, on the goal.

They started early on the course. There were no ramps or ditches; they ran up against a group of twenty men to match their twelve. Link stayed back a few feet, trying to judge the situation as best he could. He admitted to himself that he was impressed with the others, and he doubted his own ability. The next thing Link knew, he was being engaged by two opponents on either side, one a massive, older man with a long beard, and the other a smaller man of his size. Link tried to stay crouched, raising his shield above his head and trying to knock their blows off center. He could feel cold sweat down his back; this was getting difficult, far more difficult than what he'd expected. Link forced himself to keep focus, swinging upward with his sword hand and smacking at their blades. The guards stepped back and Link did as well, straightening and looking them over. The big one had a good arm and strong footing, but the smaller one was faster, harder to get past. Link nervously spun the sword in his hand, trying to decide who to take on first.

The decision, unexpectedly, was made for him; someone else rushed forward and engaged the smaller of the two soldiers. It was the skinny farm boy; Link was impressed he'd gotten this far. He turned his attention back to his opponent; a hulking mass of a man, wearing a few slivers of plate and hefting a massive hammer. He took a slow step towards Link, and Link crouched, taking a deep breath before rushing forward, holding the shield up and swinging in arcs with the sword.

This was no longer a game to him. When Link had started the competition, he was determined but relaxed. With the end a few days away, and his muscles hardened and primed for fighting, he was taking it far more seriously. Even the thought that he really didn't know how to use a sword wasn't stopping him.

Link stayed close to his opponent, trying to make it as difficult as possible for the towering man to use his hammer. He was taking too long to make a move; his skin crawled in worry as he considered his enemy. The burly brawler moved before he did; he shoved Link back with a powerful arm, nearly knocking Link over. No! He would not be defeated so easily.

Link ducked his head low and gave a battle cry as he charged forward, plowing the entirety of his mass into the taller man's stomach. The man grunted with surprise and stumbled back a few feet. Link jumped back and ran forward again, jumping and using his shoulder to bowl into the man again, succeeding in knocking him down on his back and quickly putting his sword to the man's throat. The guard nodded with a grin, getting up and walking away from Link to the sidelines.

He looked around and noticed the group of competitors left had started going ahead already, and he would have to catch up. Link did so at a light run, tagging along at the end of the group. He noticed they'd lost another two men in the last round. Their next challenge appeared, a group of men in equal number, and Link jumped into the fray.

-

Zelda was dreaming, her brow furrowed in worry as she did so. She tossed and turned, breathing heavily, sweat pouring down her back. Her attendants stood around the bed, watching her with frowns. Her father came in to see her, but left after only a few minutes; the sight of his daughter's anguish was more than he could bear.

In her dreams, Zelda was waist deep in sand that flowed rapidly around her like a river. She wasn't standing on anything, but she did not move with the sand. Ahead of her in the desert, she could see a brilliant, glowing form climbing out of the sands. It stood, staring further into the distance; she followed its gaze and watched a rolling, massive form emerge from the desert, sand pouring off its black shape, and a dull roar echoing in her ears. Zelda looked down and noticed with horror that she was now up in sand to her chest, and it was constantly creeping ever higher, packing her in a dry, painful heat.

Zelda screamed and squirmed, contorting and almost falling off the bed. But she was not awake.

-

Link was exhausted. He had bruises and scrapes on his knuckles, and his back ached. He ate a small amount, too tired and weak to care about filling his stomach. After the first three rounds of fighting other soldiers, they had an unexpected obstacle course, a combination of pylons to jump over, small hills to scramble up, and even rope ladders. He looked around at the few men left. Five days left, and eight men remained. The one he was most concerned about was the scrappy farm boy, the leader of most of the events. He had dark hair, and except for his nose, which looked like it'd been broken a couple times, he and Link had similar features and height. Link wasn't trying to create any enemies, but he suspected it would be increasingly difficult to get rid of his best chance for losing the competition.

Link wrapped up in his cot, huddled up in the covers. He was rubbed raw. His nerves were shot, and even though he grew up swimming in muddy rivers and working on dusty farms, he ached for a bath and a fresh change of clothes, and sleep in a real bed. One of the other men echoed his thoughts, "I'd slaughter e'ery knight in the palace for a bath," he groaned.

Another one chuckled. "I'd take on the king himself for a hot meal."

"I'd ride into the castle wearing women's petticoats for a proper bed."

The men chuckled as a group. Link couldn't help but grin a little bit at the visual. He knew that he, himself, would do almost anything to see the princess, to see if she was alright. But he was not about to admit that out loud.

-

He woke up early the next day and left the tent, before anyone else had woken up. Link walked out for the breakfast meal, a little surprised that he'd nearly beaten the servants that brought the meal out; the errand boys were still setting up the bowls and spoons, a heavy pot of steaming porridge already set up on the lone table. Link nodded once to the errand boys when they caught sight of him, walking a few feet off to relieve himself near the back corner of the tent. He turned back around and sat down at the table, immediately helping himself to some food.

Someone sat down across from him, and he looked up; it was the dark-haired boy. They locked eyes and both nodded once at each other. At that moment, they knew that they would have to fight each other eventually. They were too similar, and both of them were too good at this challenge. Link ate his breakfast, hardly looking up when the other men woke up and sat at the table, helping themselves to the food. They ate in silence. Everyone was thinking about the challenges of the next day.

-

Every day, it got more difficult. The second day, they started with more physical challenges, and then onto fighting more knights; they were bigger and faster. They were also now fighting them as well as taking physical challenges at the same time; jumping from board to board while crossing swords, dodging swinging mallets and hammers. By the seventh day, there were three of them left out of over two hundred men. Link, an ex-butcher, and the black-haired farm boy.

AN: Super long chapter this time! I took up a suggestion to make longer chapters, and that's why I haven't posted anything in a few days. I figure you'd all appreciate fewer posts with meatier content, yeah?


	5. Chapter 5

Even though he thought he got plenty of sleep, Link was exhausted. He woke up with the other two men, ate, and they started the last leg of the competition. It almost immediately started with hopping across pylons and dodging spinning dummies with soft mallets; an old trick to them by now. The next leg was a quick fight with two hulking berserkers from the king's army; the butcher took one all to himself, and the other two competitors defeated the other one.

They went on to the next part. Here, the butcher was taken out; they were hopping across pylons, dodging mallets, and fighting two guards with swords each. Link wobbled uneasily as he balanced on one of the last pylons, taking a deep breath. The butcher growled and swung too fast at the guards he was fighting, and he wobbled uneasily before falling off the pylon with a cry of despair. Link looked over and saw his remaining opponent was already off the pylons; he caught up to him at a run. They walked up to the next challenge, a bit confused when they realized it was just a wide circle, with a center circle of skinny poles to balance on. Link looked over at the dark-haired opponent.

It looked that they were at the very end; Link could see the gates and hundreds of watching eyes. He looked up for the first time in ages and saw the balconies overhead; the king was at one, looking weary and old, watching them from above. Link sighed and stretched his legs, clearing his throat. A guard stepped out. "You must defeat one more opponent, and then, each other!"

The opponent was the guard captain himself. All of Link's loathing and disgust with this man being the bearer of the challenges rose in him, and the wood of his toy sword creaked in his hand with his grip. The guard captain hopped onto the center pylon, waving them both onward with his hands. Link charged first with a growl of anger and frustration, hopping effortlessly over the logs and immediately meeting the captain. Their wooden swords met, clashing so hard that Link's palm soon ached from the vibrating wood.

When the black-haired farm boy came out, though, the guard captain took out a second store and took on both of them, never moving from his pylon. Link carefully tried to side step to the next one, but he was distracted by the guard captain's sword, and he stayed where he was. His fellow competitor was moving about far easier though, his face determined and his eyes alight from the challenge. Link gasped and wobbled, almost knocked down from his pylon; the guard captain had caught him off guard and nearly thrown him. He regained his balance and started to fight once more, more determined, forcing himself to move faster from pylon to pylon.

Then, it happened.

Link struck the guard captain down, and both men put their swords to his neck where he lay on the pylon. The guard captain laughed and applauded them both before getting up and leaving the circle. Link turned his attention to his last opponent, his hair clinging to his neck and in his eyes. They watched each other, deathly still for a few minutes. Link flipped his sword in his hand, panting for air. The world went still, and he could hear a rushing sound in his ears. They stepped from pole to pole, circling each other now like two angry wolves.

Finally, Link jumped forward across the poles and started swinging in quick, fast movements. The other finalist ducked, stepping back rapidly. They stopped again and went back to pacing, both of them wary, tense. Link glanced to the castle; for a second he thought he saw the princess, but he didn't- the dark-haired boy lunged and they were off again, Link stepping back now, trying to dodge his rapid thrusts and strikes, holding his shield up with his arm.

Finally, Link swung upward and their swords met; they pushed back and forth, one trying to knock the other off balance. Link broke away and started moving forward again, slashing and hacking; their swords and shields met more often now, bits and splinters of wood flying off with their furious movements. Link didn't even notice, but his jaw was so tense it was sore, and he was holding his breath as they fought across the circle of poles, a fast-paced balancing act. Link jumped back a pole, wobbling slightly on the wood, and his opponent saw an opening. He leapt forward, swinging and nearly missing. Link shoved his arm at his attack to knock his sword away, and, in an unexpected move, the other farm boy shoved his shielded arm up into Link's face, smacking him in the nose and mouth. Link fell back, his lip split and his nose throbbing.

He fell off the pylon.

Link landed hard on his back on the dirt six feet below, the wind knocked out of him. He coughed and gasped for air, trying to breathe again, his eyes wide. Blood ran down his face from his nose and mouth, and he could taste copper on his tongue. Up ahead, far, far ahead, he could hear cheers and screams. Link closed his eyes, and let himself fall into a daze.

He was lost, floating in an inky sea of darkness. There were voices, but the words were meaningless and unintelligible. Soft whispers, women's voices.

"Shhh, let him sleep."

"Poor thing."

"Don't say that!"

"Well, I can't help it; he got all that way and worked so bloody hard-"

"Your tongue!"

"I can't help it!"

"You're only talking this way because you think he's handsome."

There was an awkward, choked silence; then both women hurriedly left the room. Link remained content to lie there for a few minutes. He wanted to pretend that he was sleeping for a while. He was ashamed of himself, and sickened. Kortos would mock him for this failure. He groaned and lifted one hand to his aching head, slowly opening his eyes. His vision was blurry, and his eyelids almost felt glued shut. He coughed raggedly, sitting up and putting a hand to his chest. It was bandaged and ached. Link looked around after taking a few deep breaths to get rid of a sudden wave of nausea.

He was in a large bed in a quiet, wood-paneled room. Next to the bed was a side table with a pitcher and a glass for water. The door to the room was shut tight, though some light leaked from under the door. There was also light coming through a window in the room, and everything had a soft, grey glow. Link shifted so that he was propped up on the pillows, and he carefully felt his nose and lips with his hands. The split in his lower lip had mostly healed, and his nose didn't feel too swollen, so it must've been a day or two since he woke up again. He also realized that he was only in his knickers. He pulled the covers up and closed his eyes again, listening to his stomach growl in irritation.

It was a while later, an hour or so, before someone else came into his room. He opened one eye, and the handmaid that was coming in gasped in surprise, caught off guard by his eyes being open.

"Oh! Go… good morning, sir," she said with a smile, bowing her head to him. Link nodded in response, wrapping the blankets around himself closer. "Are you hungry, sir?"

Link coughed and nodded again. "Yes, and thirsty, too."

She poured him a glass of water and handed it to him. "I'll go see about getting you some breakfast." She smiled at him and left, shutting the door gently behind her. Link finished the glass of water and poured himself a second, feeling better as he did. After a little while, he was brought breakfast, and he ate fast, shocked at how hungry he was.

"The king has requested to see you," the handmaid told him in a low tone as she gathered the breakfast dishes.

Link frowned. "But, I lost the competition?" The young girl shrugged her shoulders; she wasn't entirely sure why the king wanted to speak with Link, either.

-

Dirmane swore to himself when Link had fallen. He was so sure that he was the chosen one! Ganondorf's one enemy that stood a chance of stopping the desert king! And how could Ganondorf destroy him if he wasn't sent to the desert? Dirmane had to think, and fast. He went to the king's chambers and sat down with him, after being allowed to enter and bowing and greeting him.

"Your majesty, I have just realized a problem."

The king paused, looking up. "Yes? What is it? Is it about Zel-"

"No, your majesty, your daughter is faring. It is about this competition."

Dirmane did not relish the mixture of slow anger and anxiety that flooded the king's complexion, but he rushed on. "We are doing this to find a champion of the castle, someone to go to the desert and find this plant."

The king slowly nodded.

"Well, the problem is that… at the commencement ceremony, everyone will know who this champion happens to be. The Gerudo people will figure it out that he comes on your behalf if he is spotted, and it may start another war because of the plant's holy nature to them."

"I did not think of that," the king muttered slowly. "What are you suggesting?"

"We send one of the second place men instead. He has shown to be nearly as good as the champions. We send him instead, and if he is captured, we deny that he has any role in our royal courts, that he is delusional and upset because he lost the competition."

The king frowned. He did not like the idea of making an innocent person, especially one that had worked so hard, look like a crazed fool. But, what chances were there of him getting caught in the first place?

Dirmane could tell that the king was unsure of this plan. He leaned in and put a friendly hand on the king's shoulder. "Your majesty. Her highness grows more and more ill every day that we delay this. Do it for her."

The king winced. "Very well. Bring him to me as soon as he is awake."

-

Link stood near the door, just inside of the king's chambers, wearing a fresh set of clothing and boots, his hair brushed and his skin nearly scrubbed raw. He looked around the room, his eyes darting like a frightened rabbit's. He was tense and nervous; what could the king possibly want with him? The king stood up and walked up to him, and Link was surprised to find that they were nearly the same height. "Hello, Link," he greeted him.

"Hello, your majesty," Link replied. They shook hands, and the king invited Link to sit down in a chair near his desk. Link did so, waiting nervously.

The king took a deep breath and tried to smile at him. "I would like to congratulate you on your success in the tournament. Although you did not win, you were one of the few to nearly complete the endurance challenge. Because of that, I have a most important, and highly secret request of you."

Link straightened and nodded. "Of course, your majesty. What is it?"

-

They stood over the princess in her bed. She was not delicately poised with her hands clasped on her breast and her hair combed and fanned out over the pillow; instead, she lay sprawled on her back, breathing raggedly. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she was terribly gaunt. Link snuck a look at the king, and then away again.

"She has been like this for a few weeks now," the king muttered quietly as they looked at her. Link looked up at him, but the king was staring mournfully at his daughter. "According to my advisor, there is a plant that grows in the desert that might be able to cure her. I would have settled for sending my best knights to perform such a task of retrieving this plant, but with wounds from the recent war still fresh…"

Link nodded slowly.

"I need to send in someone who is not affiliated with the royal military or court, but someone who has all the same skills of a knight." The king looked at Link, fixing him with a steely gaze. "By taking up this challenge, you will be forfeiting all ties to Hyrule for its duration. I will deny your existence to your face to avoid another war. But if you are successful, and the princess recovers with your help, you will be heralded as a champion, and I shall personally grant you all the highest honors I have in my power, as well as a deed to your own lands and a yearly stipend of ten thousand rupees."

"Ten thous…" Link had never even imagined the amount of money the king was offering him. Ten thousand rupees a year! He'd never have to spend another summer slaving in fields; hell, he could even hire people to do that for himself!

The king mistook Link's shock for hesitation, and he crossed to Link's side of the bed, grabbing his hands and holding them tight. "Please, Link. We, the royal majesty of Hyrule, are begging you to do this. If not for us, then for our beloved daughter. Please!"

Link glanced to Zelda, then back to the king. "Yes, of course, your majesty. I'll do it."

Link spent another night in the castle, in the room he'd woken up in. He was to be given a horse for the trip, weapons, and supplies of food; enough for a month or so. They would also give him a few changes of clothing, and a hat for the hot desert sun, as well as a map and compass. He was served a light meal in his rooms, and the king later came to talk to him personally.

"My advisor has told me that the key to her health are the black leaves that grow from the plant."

Link nodded.

"It is a holy item to the Gerudo, so it will be heavily guarded, but I am not sure how it is guarded or by what."

Link nodded again. "I'll do my best not to let you down, your majesty."

He left early the next morning, with all of his supplies. The stable boys were already preparing his horse when he went out there, and the sun hadn't even yet risen. Link was too nervous to eat breakfast, and he only nodded to the stable boys in response. He climbed up on the horse once they were out of the stables, a sure-footed and calm mare.

They headed out, going southeast. It would take a week for him to cross into the desert proper, and once he did, there would be little refuge from the sun and the sand. Link stuck to the well-traveled paths, and let his horse trot. He was in no rush to tire her out so early into the trip, especially when it would be difficult to keep her watered in a very short amount of time. For now, though, he enjoyed the cool air and the green grass of Hyrule.

-

"My lord, it has been done."

Ganondorf leered from the ornate mirror. "Excellent. Are you sure the one coming is that one of legend?"

Dirmane bowed his head. "Yes, lord, I am. I looked upon him and felt a shudder of repulsion and loathing, beyond that of anyone else I have gazed upon."

"And he is coming this way as we speak?"

"Yes, lord."

"Good, good. Continue to drench her highness' bed things in the restless sleep draught. I will alert you when he is returning with the leaves."

"Those will finish her off, yes, lord?"

"That is their intended purpose." Ganondorf chuckled deeply to himself. "It will be good to stretch my muscles against this youthful challenger. I have missed a good battle since the king ended the war!"

He waved his hand and his communication with Dirmane ended. Ganondorf stood from his throne and paced through the halls of his massive desert castle, built out of massive blocks of granite, all carefully wedged together. Outside of the castle, he could hear the winds of the desert, whistling and screaming shrilly, begging to be let in.

The king thought he'd had an easy truce with Ganondorf. He hadn't even questioned why the desert king went along so willingly with his terms; the desert king must also be exhausted, after a near thirty-year war. After the signing of the treaty, it was easy to sneak one of his own henchmen in to replace one of the many lost advisors. Dirmane, born to a Hylian father and a Gerudo mother, had the long pointed ears of the Hylians, which went a far stride in disguising him to the king's eyes, though he did have to apply some face paint for a lighter pallor.

Ganondorf was pleased in his choice for an infiltrator; though at times fanatical, Dirmane had a solid dedication to the desert king and people, a trait which was aided by his intense disgust for his Hylian father, who'd left his mother not long before Dirmane was born, upon finding out about the child. Ganondorf had almost immediately recruited Dirmane into his personal army of half-Hylian boys displaced by the war after their soldier fathers had left the desert, tired of "the sand whores".

These bitter and displaced men had grown up hard and cruel, thanks to Ganondorf's strict and grueling military training schools. But they were some of the best; expert assassins that cloaked themselves in sands, brilliant fighters, and wickedly cunning minds. They almost rivaled the legendary Sheikah in their expertise.

When Zelda had been born near the middle of the war, Ganondorf had begun his plot to swoop in and claim Hyrule, starting with the post-birth murder of her mother, the Queen. Women died in childbirth all the time, after all; losing too much blood, sepsis, or simply not being able to recover. From then on, Ganondorf groomed an elite few, one of which to earn the task of becoming the king's advisor.

And a few years after the war ended, when Zelda was just fifteen and a sort of calm had settled over Hyrule, Ganondorf called Dirmane to the mirror they communicated through and told him to begin drenching the princess' bed sheets and night clothes in a sickness potion, to begin the next phase of Ganondorf's domination over Hyrule.

-

Link stood on the Hylian side of the bridge that would take him to Gerudo, the two lands separated by a rapid river that ended in a towering waterfall some miles down. The bridge was freshly built; its predecessor had been a casualty in the war, and a strategic point for Hyrule. His horse snorted uneasily and nipped at his shoulder, encouraging him to move on. Link stared at the desert. It was hot where he was; the trees were few and scraggly on both sides of the river, and the grass was yellow and withered. Below in the river, he saw massive rocks that broke ribs, and for one dreadful moment he thought he saw an omen of evil; three skulls clustered together, staring up at him with leering teeth and black pits for eyes. Link looked up and frowned, tensing his jaw. "The longer we sit here and wait, the sicker the princess gets," he said out loud to his horse and himself. She snorted in agreement, and they crossed the bridge, Link walking ahead with purpose to his stride.


	6. Chapter 6

The few trees and patches of grass near the river banks died away quickly, leaving a streak of dry sand. Wind kicked it up constantly into little storms, and Link used his hat as both protection from the sun and to keep the sand out of his eyes. He tried to position his cloak around his horse's face as best he could to protect her as well, but she didn't much care for the idea and tossed it onto the ground.

The desert wasn't very interesting, even to someone who'd never left Hyrule before. Miles and miles of sand surrounded Link, and after a while of looking around at the horizon too long, he got an itchy feeling of the sand rising up to swallow him, and he stared straight ahead, the compass on a chain around his neck. Now and again, he would take a deep drink from a canteen, pouring some of it into a bowl for his horse to drink from as well.

He was unsure of how long it would take them to get to the castle and fortress of the Gerudo people; the king had said at least a few days. But his experience had been with marching soldiers, who thundered along on their horses like hellbent banshees. Link was wary of his mount overheating, so he tried to take it easy on both of them.

The worst part about the desert, he'd decided after his first night in it, was its silence. Besides the wind whirling around his head and the soft hush of the sand sliding around his boots, it was quiet. It sent Link on edge; not even a bird was in the sky. He took to riding his horse at night, and taking quick naps at dusk and dawn, laying down in the sand with his hat covering his face.

At one point, Link looked around and realized he was in the middle of the sandy wastes; he could not see a hint of Hyrule. It was isolating, and for a second he doubted himself and the wisdom of coming on this trek alone, in secret. Even if he died and was found, the king would deny it entirely. And he was risking all this for money? Link shook his head at his foolishness, and he sat down in the sand, brooding. His horse snorted and laid down next to him, looking at him with her wide eyes.

"What was I thinking?" he asked her aloud. "How foolish am I? Did I honestly think this was a good idea?" The horse snorted and nuzzled Link's shoulder with her nose. "I'm going to die out here, aren't I?" He rubbed her neck, sighing despondently. In response, his horse butted his shoulder with her nose and snorted angrily.

"Do you believe in destiny?"

Link stared at his horse, disbelieving. Great; he really was going to die, he was starting to hallucinate.

No, wait—he looked beyond his horse, leaning forward to do so, and saw a Gerudo woman standing there. She was dressed in long, layered clothes, but her head was bare, and she grinned at him. "You'll die of thirst if you don't get out of this sun. You're lucky I found you." She reached down and grabbed Link's hand, pulling him up. She was a great deal taller than him, and older. "Come on. I'll take you to our oasis."

Link followed her reluctantly over the sand, his horse not far behind. He was surprised to see that they weren't all that far from a massive oasis of towering palms and a deep pond of water. Around the oasis were brightly decorated tents, and a dozen or more women. They looked at Link with feigned interest, waving half-heartedly as he wandered over. His horse immediately walked into the pond, swimming around and tossing her head. The women stood up and greeted Link, shaking his hand.

"We're some of the outcast Gerudo women," their leader, the one that greeted him, explained.

"Why outcast?"

"Because we took Hylian lovers during the war," answered another woman, looking angry and spitting into the sand. She had a long, evil scar stretching from her ear to under her chin, and she glowered at Link. "And so our country abandoned us as traitors, and then our men abandoned us as whores."

Link stepped back, feeling uneasy. They noticed.

"Don't worry your pretty blond head about us, boy. We won't kill you, unless you piss us off," the scarred woman said with a smirk.

He sat down slowly in the offered chair, watching them, unable to feel anything but tense.

"So what's a pale one like you doing out in the middle of the desert?" a third woman asked as she went about mending a tear in some cloth.

"I've… I'm heading to the fortress, to request to borrow some of the black leaves of the plant there."

They looked at him in surprise, some of them smirking.

"Ha! You're going to steal part of the holy Gerudo oleander, are you?"

"And what do you need that for, trying to kill someone?"

"No," Link explained with a frown. "It's for the princess; it will cure what ails her."

A few of the women snickered to themselves. "It'll cure her of something, alright," one muttered with a snort.

"Well then!" The leader suddenly spoke up, a grin on her face. "If you'd like, we'll let you refill your canteens here. You can even stay the night if you want; lots of dangerous creatures prowl the desert at night." They smiled at him like cats that found a mouse. Something in Link's skin crawled with repulsion, and a quiet voice in the back of his mind chanted _GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. _Link managed a smile, and he nodded. "The water would be appreciated, thank you."

They wouldn't let him leave. They insisted he eat some of their food as well, and Link felt a bit guilty for taking some of their own supplies when he had plenty of his own, especially because the meat they served tasted like boar that had gone a bit off. As the sun set and their fire died down, their chatter whittled away to nothing. "Well," the leader said suddenly, with a yawn. "I think it's time for us to get some sleep, don't you, ladies?" Most of them nodded. "Here, Link, we'll show you to a tent."

As he followed her to the farthest tent on the left, he could hear a strange, howling whistling sort of noise, getting louder and louder. It was eerie and malevolent, in a way. The inside of Link's tent was clean enough, but very dimly lit, and there was a smell to it that he did not quite trust. In fact, since he first saw the woman in the desert, he'd felt cold chills and an urgent sense to leave. Even as he laid in the cot, he realized that sleep would not come because of his fight-or-flight response. Not to mention the damned whistling, shrill and evil over his head, beyond the normal sound of the wind.

Finally, Link got up and left his tent, under the pretense of relieving himself. The sky was black with a few stars and a half full moon, and the fire was little more than glowing coals. Link followed the whistling to an area behind his tent and several paces back. He saw something gleaming, and as he got closer he realized it was a sword hilt, protruding from the sand.

Link got down on his knees and started digging. The further he went, the deeper the horror; bones of dead men, deep in the sand. What little skin had remained on their bones had been mummified by the dry heat to a jerky texture, and the metal of their swords and armor was pitted and rusted away. He recognized the emblems as very recent; the king had changed his royal crest to reflect the new peace between Hyrule and Gerudo. These were not soldiers killed in battle. These were men killed for pleasure, for revenge, for…

A sick feeling rose in Link's stomach, and he flung himself to his feet, stumbling a few paces away and vomiting. He shoved his fingers in his mouth and forced himself to sick it all up. That had not been boar meat, and he knew it. He got back to the tent, and now he could see in the brighter light that there were dark splotches of blood soaking the cot he'd been laying on, long dried and faded to brown. He heard his horse scream, and Link ran out into the oasis clearing. Two Gerudo women were trying to hold her still to slit her throat, but she kicked and reared, screaming up a storm. A few others turned and saw Link staring at them, and they knew he knew.

They ran at him, and Link ran back for the tent, diving in and grabbing his swo- no! They'd taken his sword! He cursed and looked back. The women jumped into the tent and ran to him, their swords pointed. Link dodged at the last second, and the blades slashed through the flimsy material of the back wall, stumbling and falling over each other in their momentum. He ran out that way, stepping on them, heading for the grave site and grabbing a sword at random, grunting when it was heavier than he expected.

Five of them were running towards him now; Link held the sword with two hands and swung it in a horizontal arc when they got too close. Most of the women jumped back, but one screamed when he got her arm and part of her stomach. He swung again, advancing with heavy steps, and the women again jumped back, trying to circle him. Link kept moving, keeping them in his sight. He kept his back to the bone yard, narrowing his eyes.

One jumped forward, and in a quick movement, he thrusted the sword at her. He pierced her gut, just below the heart, and in a ragged, jerky movement he pushed the blade up before pulling it out. Blood gushed from the wound immediately, and the woman fell to the sand in silence.

The four remaining advanced, their faces ugly and contorted. Link was starting to get better with the sword, and he again jumped forward and swung. His opponents parried it easily, and Link picked up a second sword in response, finding it was smaller and lighter. Good.

He started swinging both arms back and forth, sweat running down his neck. The women stepped back in response, a few smirking. Was he an idiot? He was going to tire himself out fast doing this. Link backed off again and dropped the heavier sword point down in the sand. He lifted the smaller sword with both hands, stepping forward. One of the Gerudo stepped forward to meet him. He moved fast now, and with purpose. This was just the farmboy all over again, he told himself. This was just another knight in disguise, and he wasn't actually going to die. Such a train of thought helped. He moved faster, meeting and catching her blade as often as she caught his.

When he saw an opening, he took it. Link swung upward and cut her across the chest diagonally, stepping back as she fell. The three remaining swooped in on him, and Link fought harder than he thought possible. He spun in a circle, and the women jumped back from his blade. He sliced upward and caught one on the chin; she stumbled back, but recovered.

But Link wasn't careful enough; one managed to jump on his back and stab him in the shoulder of his sword arm. Link screamed and swung with his other fist, striking her in the face. She fell off and he wheeled, plunging the sword into her heart, ripping it back out and whipping around to face the remaining two opponents. It was the leader and the woman with the scar. Link looked them over, trying to identify weak points. The scarred woman came first, running and slashing the air with her sword, upward and across. Link jumped away in response, coming at her from the side and knocking her over with his arms. He lifted his sword and plunged, but she rolled away and kicked him sharply in the jaw. Link's teeth clicked together, and he fell back onto the sand.

The leader was walking towards him now, and he forced himself up; the scarred woman was standing again and facing him. He jabbed, aiming for her neck, and she dodged. He turned and whipped the blade towards the leader in an arc, and she parried it with little effort. They came to a standstill again, and Link realized how hard he was breathing. Both women took a step back, and Link looked back and forth, watching their movements.

One jumped, the scarred woman, and Link moved back, swinging his sword upward and throwing her blade off. He quickly turned the blade flat-side up and swung at the leader sideways, knocking her aim as well. They jumped closer, and their fighting continued. But Link was getting better, faster, trying to follow a rhythm of attack. He actually tapped his heel on the sand as he fought with them, counting under his breath, "One, two, three, one, two, three."

With a little shout of courage, he changed his grip on the sword so that he held it like a dagger, thrusting it forward into the chest of the scarred woman, and he elbowed the leader in the gut with his elbow, turning and stabbing her in the back until the blade protruded from the other side. Both women fell down dead. Link stared at them for several minutes, making absolutely sure that they were done for, before he allowed himself to collapse and breathe. The sky was turning a faint grey, and sweat was running down his back. But he'd survived the Maneaters of Gerudo, as he would later come to learn was their proper title.

Dirmane sat in silence in one of the dark corners of the wash room. Any minute now, the handmaid with Zelda's bed linens would come down to begin washing them. It was a labor, and a different woman did so every day. She stoked the coals in the fire place until there were some flames, feeding little bits of wood until there was a good size fire. Then she put on a massive kettle of water, just for such a purpose, to heat while she prepared a tub and shaved bits of soap from a massive bar into the bottom.

When she had filled the tub and was putting on the kettle for more hot water, Dirmane stepped to the tub on his very toes, pouring a somewhat foul-scented, cloudy elixir over the sheets. He rushed back away into the dark, silently corking the empty bottle and waiting until the maid was busily scrubbing away, before slipping around her and up the stairs.

The young girl thought she felt a cool breeze at her neck, and she looked around, rubbing her arms from the chill. But she saw nothing.

Dirmane made it safely back to his chambers, and in the skinny wardrobe with Ganondorf's mirror, he opened up a small black chest that rested on the floor and cursed. He was already almost out of the elixir, and he'd have to make more. Dirmane wrote out a list of what he required, along with several, more 'harmless' ingredients, and he pulled the bellcord next to his chamber doors.

The maid smiled kindly at Dirmane when he gave her the list and several rupee for her trouble, but once she was away from him she shuddered in repulsion. He gave her the creeps. She read the list of herbs he requested, while he explained it was an herbal remedy for his hair and skin. The maid read them again though, now that she was out of his sight, and she shook her head. She knew a little bit about medicines, and the kinds of plants, along with their amounts, did not sound like a proper medicine to her. A tendril of suspicion began in the back of her head, and she brooded over it as she headed out to the market to get the castle's daily supplies.

-

Link was glad that he'd filled his canteens in the pond before leaving the oasis. Otherwise, he'd be dying of thirst a lot faster. He and his horse had both drank the last of the water around midday, and Link trudged over the searing sands, keeping his mouth shut tight. He was reluctant to wander towards any oases he saw in the desert, unsure if there were more cannibal women. This ended up saving him, because all of them were actually mirages. It had been three days since he'd fought them, but he was still wary. He watched as a dark point appeared over the distant sands, the sun setting behind him. Link wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and kept walking, his horse not far behind. The shimmering object grew larger, giving the illusion that it was rising up out of the sands, when they were really just cresting a dune. When he did reach the top, there it lurked, in its dark and foreboding glory; the Gerudo Fortress and the holding place of the Gerudo oleander.

The handmaid walked slowly back from town, her basket full of her purchases. The herbs were wrapped tightly in parchment at the very bottom. The apothecary she bought them from had looked over the list with a distrustful gaze, but pursed his lips and collected the leaves and blooms anyway. His reaction set her on edge. She returned to the castle without incident, and delivered Dirmane's herbs, silent and withdrawn, lost in worry. Unfortunately for her, he noticed her suspicious disposition.

When she had finished that task, the handmaid found an excuse to hide in the library and look up the plants she'd just bought. She looked for a few hours, undisturbed in the silent room. Besides the gentle creaking of the settling floorboards behind her, there was not a sound.

Dirmane grabbed the back of her dress as she started to fall forward, and carried her to one of the chairs, arranging her so she looked as if she were asleep. He took the book from her hands and looked at it, snorting quietly. She'd been a little too close to finding him out. He slipped out of the library, gently closing the massive door behind him, and headed back to his rooms. He had some blooms to steep.


	7. Chapter 7

Link slid down the opposite side of the dune he'd crested in a half crouch, and he made it to the bottom rather neatly. His horse snorted and stamped uneasily at the edge of the mountain before giving a little whinny of annoyance and frustration. "Come on!" Link shouted back to her, gesturing with his right hand for her to follow the edge of the dune at an angle. She was a pretty intelligent horse, and she followed his gestures carefully, slipping a little in the sands as she went. They were reunited at the bottom of the dune, and Link climbed up on her back, riding towards the sprawling fortress.

At first, Link thought that it was entirely black, but when he got closer to it he found that it was black only on certain edges; those that lay at a diagonal to the sky were a soft white, where as the flat vertical edges were black. During the brilliant daylight, it gave the illusion of the fortress being little more than massive floating blocks, the white parts lost against the brilliant sky. Link cleared his throat and approached it at a slow pace, trying to spy any guards. But the shiny black surface made that all but impossible at his distance. He crouched over his horse and could barely make out small, moving figures across the sand.

"Now," he muttered to himself, "if I were protecting something holy, I would have it in the very center and back of my massive… uh, fortress. Makes sense, yeah?" His horse snorted, and Link took that to be a confirmation. He jerked on her reins when he realized four of the guards were running for him, and he hopped down, unsheathing his swords that he'd kept from the dead Gerudo women. Their curved blades were strange, and the things were heavier than he expected, but he was able to handle them pretty well. As he met the first guard, a strange, olive-skinned man with pointed ears like a Hylian, he wondered if he should really slay these people or if he should try to disarm them. But the king had not seemed to care if he did kill anyone, as he would deny all connection anyway. So Link parried their attacks as well as he could with the crescent-shaped swords, and he disarmed them.

To his dismay, relieving them of their weapons did not stop the guards. They lunged at him with their bare hands and grappled him. Link dropped his swords and put up his hands, grabbing the first guard's hand and pushing it down at an awkward angle until the man cried out and pulled away. The second, he caught a fist flying at his face and shoved it away, turning to a third and throwing a punch. His fist was caught and flung away in a similar fashion, and the four of them half-jumped on him, grabbing hold of his limbs and using their combined weight to bring him to the ground. Link thrashed uselessly like a fish out of water in their grip, but they held fast and still, letting him tire himself out. When his muscles slackened and he lay panting on the sand, they extricated themselves from his form and hoisted him up, dragging him towards the fortress.

His horse did not agree with this, and she screamed, rearing and charging the group, lunging and trying to strike them down with her massive hooves. One of the guards turned back, one arm still holding Link tight, and struck her neck with a well-placed fist. Link's horse stumbled to one side, uneven on the sand, and Link started to thrash anew. One of the guards swore in annoyance and punched him in the side of the head, and Link blacked out.

-

When he came to, Link found that he was in a rather disgusting, cramped, and dark cell. He had a goose egg swelling on the side of his head, and when he stood up too fast, bright light flickered in his eyes and he almost lost consciousness again. Link coughed and looked around, trying to assess his situation. He'd been stripped of his weapons and money, of course, and his horse was, hopefully, keeping her distance and staying safe.

Link stretched his arms and looked around. There was really only one clear entrance and exit, the cell door that was locked. He walked up to the bars and looked out. It was a hallway just barely wide enough so that, with his outstretched arms, he couldn't reach the center of the hall. Link frowned and walked the perimeter, feeling the cool stones with his fingertips, trying to find weaknesses or grooves in the rock. There wasn't even a window.

"Come on…" he whispered to himself. Nothing. They'd built the cells very carefully. Link grumbled and grappled with the bars, testing their strength. He grinned when one rattled slightly in its holder, and he tugged on it, trying to loosen it. The grin faded fast, though; the bar might've been loose, but it was not coming out. He growled and slapped one wall with his palms, and started pacing nervously. He hated being cooped up, like a wild animal. It made his skin crawl.

He tensed when he heard a door at the end of the hall slam open, and two people started walking towards his cell, muttering quietly to each other. Link backed up into the corner of the cell, sitting down and glaring towards the doors. Two guards walked up and eyed him with a smirk. "C'mere."

He approached the bars slowly, and when he got close enough, one of the guards reached in with a rapidfire movement, grabbing him by his shirt and yanking him towards the bars. Link smacked his face hard on the metal bars, and his head snapped back. The guards chuckled to themselves as blood ran from Link's nose and mouth. He stumbled back a few feet, seeing spots of light dance across his vision as he tried to keep his balance. One of the guards undid the cell door and walked in, grappling Link's arms and wheeling him around to pin them behind his back, using rough, pre-tied cord to bind his wrists together.

Together, the two guards hauled Link from his cell and pushed his stumbling, disoriented self down the hall and up a flight of stairs. An underground cell; no wonder there were no windows. He wobbled uneasily when they got to the main floor, looking around and trying to orient himself. They shoved him to the throne room, an elegant but eerie sort of setup with more black slate and minor white stone decoration, including a massive throne upon which sat a man who smirked at Link. Link felt a jolt in the pit of his stomach, and a cold hatred for this figure. The guards shoved Link onto his knees and bowed to Ganondorf.

-

She'd been dead for an hour or two when they did finally find her. The first was a scullery maid, sent to hunt down the missing servant. On a whim, she checked the library, as a few of the regular employees were known for stealing a few minutes off their feet in the massive chairs. At first, she figured the young woman had fallen asleep, until she noticed how very pale her skin was, and its cold clammy feel. The scullery maid screamed and ran from the library, her hands to her face and her mouth open in horror. The guards came running. Most of them had been in the army during the war, and they were plenty on edge for any unexpected attacks. When they found the young lady, one guard immediately ran to inform the king, while the other two prowled the library, hunting for the assassin. But Dirmane was safely in his quarters, his pot of herbs steeping with the window wide to help leech the stink, reading a book.

The king shook his head in shame with a sigh. He was so much more grey than he should've been for his age, and the guard regretted informing him of the dead maid. "And it is absolutely clear that she was murdered?" the king asked in a low voice.

The guard cleared his throat. "Yes, your majesty. It is quite obvious that she was slain in some quick and silent matter. The… murderer is highly skilled."

"Find him. Find anyone who saw anyone leaving the library recently. Summon an undertaker and a coffinmaker, as well as alert her family. Put extra security on the princess' rooms as well." The guard nodded and took leave of his worried majesty.

-

Link was more sore than any amount of months spent on a farm could deliver. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying not to cough up the blood that was running from his mouth down his throat. He wasn't a doctor, but he was certain that at least two ribs were cracked. The guards took turns kicking at him now that he was down, and Ganondorf watched with a cold, malicious happiness.

Finally, he clapped his hands once, and the men retreated. Link gritted his teeth and struggled to lift himself off the ground with one arm. He glared at Ganondorf with an unknown fury, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling. Ganondorf raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Still up?" he asked, surprised. "I wasn't expecting that." Link coughed and spat out a gob of blood in response. Ganondorf rose to his feet. "You know who I am, don't you? I am chained to the memories of our battles, every single one. I remember every loss at your hands, and the hands of that holy artifact, the Master Sword. Do you remember?" Ganondorf had walked to Link as he spoke, and now he towered over him, his eyes blazing with madness.

Link stared up at him, weakened, and managed a blood-spattered "No."

"WHAT?!" Ganondorf roared in response. He clenched his hands into fists and wheeled. "GIVE US SWORDS!" he shouted in command to two of his guards. They eagerly turned over their weapons, and Ganondorf flung one at Link. It clattered on the floor next to him, and Ganondorf stepped back a few paces, holding his weapon high. "FACE ME!" he demanded, his eyes wide. "I CHALLENGE YOU, LINK!"

Their battle was disappointingly short-lived. Link rolled away from Ganondorf's boot, his sword dropping from his limp hand along the way. He landed on his stomach, his bruised face pressed against the cold stone floor and his eyes shut tight. Ganondorf growled in rage and disgust. "HOW DARE THEY SEND HIM TO ME? HE IS NO HERO!" He tossed his sword back to the guard that had offered it. "Throw him out into the desert to die! Let him haunt the sands like all of his Hylian brethren we slaughtered!"

Two guards hauled Link's body up in their hands and dragged his bleeding, beaten form out of the main hall and outside. They took him to several hundred feet outside of the castle's walls and flung him down. The sun had long set, and the warm sand contrasted with the cool air. One of the guards spit on Link's body, the other one sniggering, and together they headed back inside. Wind howled and screamed in Link's ears, and thick storm clouds gathered in the sky, throwing out flashes of lightning and growling with thunder.

-

Zelda gasped and opened her eyes wide. Her left hand was burning, and she pulled it from the tangled sheets, staring at the emblem that burned its way through her skin. "What in the Goddesses' names…" she whispered. Zelda stared at her hand with puzzlement, touching the emblem. She knew it, of course she did, it was in their crest and everywhere in their temples and on their clothes, but why it was a part of her now was a mystery.

-

Dirmane had no such mysteries. He cringed as Ganondorf raged and roared at him in the mirror. "YOU SENT THIS PITIFUL FOOL TO ME? HE IS NO HERO. HE DID NOT EVEN REMEMBER, HE DID NOT EVEN WEAR THE SYMBOL OF THE GODDESSES ON HIS HAND!"

"My lord, I am certain it is him!" Dirmane shouted back in a weak whimper. "I felt the chill of the Goddesses' stare when I locked eyes with him! I recognized him as your enemy of the ages!"

"I HAVE ALREADY KILLED HIM! HE WAS NOT EVEN A CHALLENGE! I would hope that something like that would be refreshing, but my thirst for blood and true conquest over my adversary has NOT BEEN TAMED!" Ganondorf's eyes were red with anger, and his teeth were almost constantly bared. Spittle dotted his lower lip, even. He roared again and pounded his fists on the arms of his chair. "DO NOT CALL UPON ME AGAIN UNTIL THE KING IS DEAD! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

Dirmane bowed and straightened, closing the cabinet and trembling. He tensed when he felt someone's eyes on him and he looked up, locking gazes with the horrified serving boy carrying a bucket of coals for the fireplace in Dirmane's room. The traitorous man quickly approached the young boy and collared him, the bucket falling and hot coals scattering over the wood, scorching it. The boy struggled and kicked, and would have screamed if Dirmane had not instantly stuffed his fist into the boy's mouth.

He snapped his neck with the other hand, and dragged the lightweight body to the window, looking down into the moat before taking a chance and throwing the corpse down. He waited until he saw the splash of the water and saw the corpse bob to the surface. Hopefully it would look like the boy had merely drowned. Dirmane knew they discovered the maid, but he was so confident in himself that he doubted they would suspect foul play for this murder as well. He shuddered and turned, grabbing the tongs near his fireplace and fetching the coals quickly, lest they start a fire.

-

Zelda was not even awake for a minute when she was knocked unconscious again. This time, however, it was a deep and restful sleep that her body held, while her spirit flew with the goddesses over Hyrule. She saw it as it was when it was young and new, the lands lush and green. Even Gerudo had a few more trees than she had expected crossing its expanse.

_Zelda, remember._

She looked to the left and saw a streak of green, and not much else.

_You have waged this never-ending war against evil Ganondorf for hundreds of years, since evil was first sprouted onto our lands._

Zelda watched as a wiry black tree sprouted in the center of Gerudo, spiraling outward in a black radius.

"Why does he exist?" she asked aloud, looking around. To the right of her was a blue streak and a red one.

_We ourselves are a neutral force, and we act through you three. Sadly, you are flawed creatures, and power always corrupts. You and Link are destined to keep Ganondorf in balance._

Zelda followed the three down to Gerudo, and she gasped when she saw Link, lying and near dead on the sands.

_We must temper him yet again. Power has driven him mad._

Zelda watched as the green streak flew into Link's hand as if being absorbed, and Link's body shone briefly with a green light before it faded and his hand began to glow as the emblem took its place.

_He will wake up, if you ask._

Zelda walked up to the prone figure, blood staining the sands. She knelt down and reached out with one ghostly hand, touching his hair. Her hand moved down to Link's left, and she took it in her hands. "Wake up. Wake up and defend Hyrule, Link."

-

Link jolted and woke up, gasping. He inhaled some sand on accident, and he coughed and sputtered, digging his fingers into the sands. Something new was coursing through his veins. Link sat up slowly, looking around and seeing the Gerudo fortress. He narrowed his eyes and started walking, slowly, back to the massive building. He was ready now.

-

Dirmane carried a tray himself as he crossed the castle towards the king's chambers. His hands rattled only slightly under the tray; his ears were still ringing from Ganondorf's raging abuse. On the tray were two small cups with saucers and stirring spoons, a pot of sugar, a small carafe of milk, and a steaming pot of water with a tea ball floating inside. He nodded to the guards, and one went into the king's quarters to announce Dirmane to the king. After a minute or so, he was allowed to enter. Dirmane set down the tray and poured two cups of tea, the king adding a spoon of sugar and stirring before taking the first sip.

"Your majesty, may I have your permission to speak freely?"

"Yes," the king sighed wearily.

Dirmane added sugar to his own drink and stirred it slowly, watching the king. "I fear for the princess. I do not believe that she will last, and that the boy we sent to fetch part of the Gerudo oleander is dead. Would he not have returned by now?"

The king took another drink before responding. "It is true, it is taking him a while longer than expected to return."

Dirmane stared down into his steaming cup with a little sigh of worry. "Your majesty, without an heir to your throne, the country of Hyrule will fall into chaos. I suggest that you name someone to rule in case of her passing, as a precaution."

The king held very still, turning his head and looking Dirmane over carefully. "And who do you suggest for the spot? Yourself, I assume?"

Dirmane managed to looked flustered and stunned. "Your majesty! Myself? Honestly, you do not believe that I would be a worthy replacement of your greatness."

The king frowned a little more. "No, I honestly do not think that at all."

Now, Dirmane was stunned. His mouth fell open, and he struggled to compose himself. "Of… well, I cannot say I blame you, good sir; after all, the people are unfamiliar with my face. How would they trust a random stranger?"

The king nodded slowly. "However, you have still raised an interesting point. Leave me now. I must think on this."

Dirmane bowed and left the room, turning his back quickly on the guards, his face a mask of rage and indignation. The king didn't trust him; something had slipped along the line. But Dirmane had to ensure himself as the next in line, to allow Ganondorf to rule through him.

The castle had a variety of hidden passages, which Dirmane had worked very carefully to discover in his time here. He used one of them now, and crept through the tunnels to the underground chambers with the most important rooms of the castle; one half devoted to the treasuries, the other half to the history books. He went to the last room on the left, the treasury side, and he paced silently through the worn desk in there, flipping through books, trying to find the king's will.

-

Zelda did not wake back up after her vision. Instead, she returned to her feverish dreams, her twisted and unfamiliar nightmares that she could not place. She tossed and turned once more, and her maids struggled to keep her bed sheets in neat order under her. She began to speak now in her sickness, mumbling and tearing at the fabric on her bed. The maids could do little but sit by and watch her grow paler. They gossiped and whispered over the princess; surely she would die at this rate. What was the king thinking, not naming a new heir in case of her imminent death? Was he even trying to save her?

"Sure, the death of the queen took its toll on him, but this is far different. She can be saved."

"He's had plenty of time to find someone who knows what ails her, don't you think?"

"You know," spoke up a third maid, who'd been sitting sheepishly by, "her bed sheets smell funny."

"Of course they do! She sweats off a pound a night!"

"No. Somethin' chemical, like."

The two other women silenced and crept up to the princess' bed. One took a corner in her hands and sniffed it; she wrinkled her nose and turned her head away. "Phew! That's no sweat stink. That's something else."

The women eyed each other suspiciously, and the one who'd sniffed nodded. "Let's change these."

-

Dirmane took the regular route through the castle halls, to place himself outside of the king's rooms and in a more public area, in case anyone should suspect him in the murder of a serving boy or the soon-to-come murder of the king. He nodded to the various guards as he headed to his rooms, stopping cold when he saw two maids leaving the princess' rooms with dirty sheets.

--------------------

AN: Well, it's been quite a while! Sorry about that; it's finals week, so my life has been pretty hectic and I haven't been able to write as much. Thanks for your patience and reviews, everyone!


	8. Chapter 8

Link avoided entering the castle entirely this time. He wanted to sneak up on Ganondorf when the man was least suspicious. Instead, he walked the perimeter. The guards that encountered him could hardly believe it; they thought for sure that Ganondorf had killed him, or at least injured him to the point of death.

Two ran up to him, but Link was ready. He grappled the first guard with his bare hands and shoved him to the ground, grabbing the next one and flipping up the visor on his helmet, punching him in the nose. The guard's nose broke with a crunch, and Link wheeled when the first to attack got up from the sands. They wrestled each other, Link gripping the guard's shoulders and trying to knock him off balance. The other guard jumped onto Link's back even with blood pouring from his nose, and Link gave a battle cry, flipping the first guard's visor up and poking him in the eye, then grabbing the guard on his back by one arm and throwing him over his shoulder into the other guard, who clutched at his face in pain.

They fell in a heap on top of each other, and Link grabbed one of their swords, flipping it in his hand and finding the weak spot- a bare patch on the back of the top guard's neck where his helmet did not cover it. Link plunged the sword through the guard's neck and down into the other guard, giving it a little twist and waiting, to make sure that it was fully planted. The sand went dark with blood, and Link nodded once to himself, satisfied that they were dead. He looked around as he took the other guard's weapons, but did not see any others coming for him, so he continued on, heading for the back of the fortress.

-

The maids finished changing the bed sheets and they nodded in agreement. The princess was still thrashing in nightmare, but as she went on, her movements became less frequent, and she started to relax.

"Do you think someone is trying to kill her?"

"Tis possible."

"We should alert the king."

"But only one of us should go."

They looked at each other, and one of the older maids stuck her chin out. "I will go, and inform him."

They agreed, and she left the room, walking quickly and keeping an eye out. If someone was able to get close enough to poison the princess through her bedding for so long, he or she must surely be an insider of the castle, someone familiar enough that none raised an eyebrow. It could be one of the servants, one of the guards, even someone a little higher in rank. She swallowed in fear and continued on to the king's quarters.

-

Dirmane was in a panic; the elixir was nowhere near ready. It had to steep for another day for it to be anywhere as potent as the previous concoction, especially now that Zelda would have time without it and be able to recover slightly. "Damn it all," he growled to himself. The king would have to die soon. Dirmane sighed in frustration and kneeled on the floor, pulling out a massive chest from under his bed and opening it. Inside were most of his clothes, and under those were several tiny vials, tightly corked and sealed with wax. He ran his fingers over them, shuddering. But there'd been too many murders recently; he would lay low for a while before striking.

-

The king looked up at the maid entering his rooms and nodded his head to her. A guard stood at the doors on the inside, and the maid bowed her head deeply. "Your grace, I and a few of the other servants have reason to believe that the young princess is being poisoned by someone."

The king nodded his head slowly, listening. "Go on."

She fiddled with a ring on one hand as she spoke, nervous. "We were keeping watch over her when… I noticed that her bedsheets had a peculiar scent to them. We changed them to fresh ones, and it was as if she was already healed before our eyes; she had less tension on her brow and actually seemed to sleep peacefully."

The king frowned. "This is most disturbing indeed. Burn her old bed sheets. I will arrange for new ones to be brought to the castle. If that is what is ailing her, and I hope it is, such should help in her recovery. But if this is merely a temporary lapse in her sickness, and she returns to it, then… we will know." He sighed heavily. "I do not understand, I suppose; were her sheets not washed daily?"

"Yes, your majesty, I believe they were."

"It must be a brief upswing, then. I will try not to keep my head too high over the ordeal." He smiled and waved one hand, and the maid understood she was dismissed. But all the same, she did not believe in the slightest that this was a temporary upswing of the princess' health. The maid returned to the princess' rooms and sat down, frowning, speaking little to the others in there with her.

-

Link had to dispatch a few more guards before he could make it to the back of the fortress. He climbed onto the building, using handfuls of sand to make his hands dry enough to grip as he crawled along the slate, trying to find an opening to get in. He got to the backside of the fortress and stopped, looking down into a wide, circular fence behind the fortress. The top of it was open, and he could dimly see part of a plant.

"That must be it," he muttered to himself. He climbed down off the building and landed himself carefully near the entrance to the fence. The fence itself was constructed of more rocks; thin layers of slate propped up by being half-buried in the sand, their edges unfinished to present as much of a threat as possible. Link walked up to the door of the fence, an ornate, splintery gate, and he frowned as he looked it over. How to get in? He thought about climbing the fence, but the edges of the stone looked sharp. Instead, he looked for the hinges of the door. They were there, the hinges carved out of the stone and even the pins were made out of the slate.

"Pins," he muttered, and he pulled them out, dropping them on the sand and grabbing the handles, carefully prying one door off the hinges. He jumped back when it wobbled and fell, blowing sand out from under its heavy form and slapping the ground. Link looked behind himself but he couldn't see much of anything, and he moved forward into the fenced-in yard.

Black vines, almost like veins, wrapped over the sand, stretching out from a massive shrub that looked almost burnt, the branches, some of which were bare, clawing at the sky. But the rest of it was full of beautiful, waxy white blossoms, glowing in the moonlight. There was a heavy, sweet smell in the air around the flowers. Link walked forward and approached the tree, frowning. It made the hair on his neck stand up; could this really be a good thing? He took a deep breath and walked up to the plant, plucking several of the tiny green leaves, and on impulse one of the blossoms, and carefully put them into a little bag on his hip, tying it up tight. Now, hopefully he would escape in one piece, and then a life of relaxation would be his. He didn't even want the money or the house or the status anymore (not that he was particularly hungry for them in the first place), he just wanted to be home and have this whole thing be over.

Link walked towards the fence exit, stopping dead. Blocking the door were five guards, one of them obviously the captain in gleaming armor and with a massive sword. Link narrowed his eyes and stepped back. He put his hand on his stolen sword's hilt, and waited for the first guard to move. The captain looked around at his four soldiers, and with only the slightest clank of his armor, he pointed forward.

The four soldiers rushed Link. He quickly withdrew his sword and stepped back into a battle stance. They flanked him on each corner, and in response he whipped his sword in an arc forward. He moved faster than he thought was possible, and knocked away the swords of the two guards in front. He turned to his backside and swung violently, lifting his sword in the air and bringing it down in an arc, cutting into one of the guard's arms in a chink n the armor, before turning to the next one and thrusting towards his chest. The guard jumped back, and Link turned to meet another, lifting his elbow and striking a guard in the face, bringing his sword to his front and jabbing quickly, pushing a guard back. Their armor would be hard to cut through, even with his increased speed.

A guard tried to jump onto Link's back to weigh him down, but he whipped backward, grabbing the guard by the side of the head and pulling him with his arm, throwing him into another guard. The two men fell to the sand and Link jabbed them both quickly through the throat. He turned again, trying to keep up with his speed, and ran the few short steps to one of the remaining guards, jumping and kicking him in the chest with his feet. It shoved the man down with Link on top, partially crushing in his chest armor. Link turned around and met the last guard's sword with his own, stepping forward off the man and parrying the guard's blade with quick strokes.

In one fluid movement, Link moved forward, knocked the sword from the guard's hand, and plunged his own through the thin opening under the neck covering of the man's helmet and into his throat. He jerked the blade back out and the man fell to the sands, gurgling. Link wiped the blood off his sword on the edge of his tunic, and he turned to look at the captain, who nodded once, impressed. He twirled his sword once, casually, and headed towards Link.

Link grabbed a second sword off one of the fallen guards and stepped back, tensing his shoulders and narrowing his eyes. The captain swung, and Link used both swords to block the massive blade, shoving it downward and hoping the captain would be knocked off balance. But he was underestimating the character, and the captain used both hands, lifting the sword and throwing them the other way, along with Link's arms. He groaned and pulled his blades out from under his, and while still crouched, he stabbed upward for the captain's throat. Using his gloved hand, the captain grabbed one of Link's swords and flung it away, reaching down and squeezing the same hand around Link's throat.

Link struggled, clawing desperately over the sand, trying to reach his other sword, his fingers weak and his vision starting to bloom. In a swift movement, he grabbed the other sword he held by its sharp edge and he stabbed into the guard captain's wrist. The captain screamed in a high-pitched tone... wait, high-pitched? She broke her hold on Link's throat and pulled her hand back from Link's throat, punching him in the face instead. Link felt his nose crunch and a tooth wiggle uneasily in its gum. He pushed at it desperately with his tongue to keep it in place so he would not have to deal with a bloody mess of his mouth and nose. He still held his sword though, and Link got up to his feet, swinging at the captain with his sword. She got up as well, picking her own sword up and slicing through the air. She knocked Link's sword down, but not out of his hands, and Link jumped to the left as she thrust the tip at him. He gripped the pommel with both hands and swung with all his might, sinking the sword into an opening in the side of her armor under her armpit and pushing, giving it a twist at the end. The guard captain screamed again and fell in a heap on the sandy ground.

Link took up her sword now. It was heavy, and he could barely lift it; it took both hands, and he could only swing very slowly. Instead, he put it back down and took two of the guards' smaller swords, hooking them under his belt. Now, he ran. He ran out of the gate, heading around the edge of the building. He stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled for his horse. He didn't see her at first, but soon she was running towards him. She looked just as battle-scarred as he surely did. There were cuts and scratches healed over along her flank and neck. The saddle was beaten up and askew on her back, some of her mane and tail had been ripped out, and there was a healing gash across her muzzle. Her eyes were wide with fear, and Link hopped up onto her back, hugging her tight and trying to calm her down with his smell, which was surely familiar to her by now. She did seem to relax, but kept running at full speed.

Link looked around, but he didn't see any pursuers just yet, so he took some time to arrange himself. He pushed his tooth firmly back into place, and with both hands, he grabbed his broken nose and corrected it with a crunch and watery eyes. He wiped the blood off his face with his arm, and tried to shake as much sand from his clothes as possible. The neat, well-made tunic he'd worn in was a pathetic, blood-soaked rag, and the chainmail armor they'd equipped him with had lost some rings. Everywhere he ached, his hair full of sand and his skin burned pink, and he had scars all over from his battles. And the food situation; that was particularly worrisome. They didn't have much, especially in water. If he could find the camp of the cannibal Gerudo women, maybe he could stock up there again.

His horse ran on. Even as the sun set, turning the sky red, they kept running. Finally, Link forced her to stop because he was exhausted for her. Her coat was wet with sweat, and she breathed harshly through her lungs. Link cupped one hand and poured some of their last water into it, holding it to her mouth as she drank eagerly. Link looked back, and he was glad that they could no longer see the brooding fortress. But he still felt nervous and jumpy, and he suspected he would until they'd crossed over into Hyrule. Link walked alongside his horse for a while through the night, keeping the reins in one hand and a comforting palm on her shoulder.

They walked through the cool desert night, and Link felt good. He felt calm. The closer they got to Hyrule, the more certain of success he felt. He rubbed his horse's shoulder comfortingly, letting his eyes half-close. She was a smart horse, and he trusted that she could lead them home. He was exhausted.

-

The boy in the moat was found. Tensions ran high through the castle, and even though the overall proclamation was of drowning, it was a highly doubted prognosis, and many believed that he was murdered like the maid in the library. Maids never went anywhere alone. Any unfamiliar face was scrutinized and memorized. Guards were put on staff in triplicate. The princess had a cadre of maids and guards watching over her at all hours, switching shifts every two hours. Any visitors had to sign in and out at the main gate. The entire marketplace went on lockdown.

The 'contest', in its weird way, went on, however, to keep up morale. Garin, the champion of one half of the competing sides and the victor over Link, frowned when the guards tried to stand watch in his rooms as well as out.

"The princess grew ill long before I even came to the stupid castle, what business would I have trying to lose my chance of winning by killing randoms?" Few people actually had interest in the contest once the physical challenge had passed, though.

They were in the middle of their final week, and the 'wit' competition was little more than them hanging around the castle, learning of the ways of high society and its functions. Garin found it very boring, and he wished there was a battle or something of some sort so that he could perhaps join the guards in fighting something.

When engaged in conversation with court ladies, he'd at first been civil and polite, even though their humor was unfamiliar to him, and they laughed at things he didn't find funny. But he was restless and moody, and instead of speaking politely, he replied with sarcasm and cynicism. It did little to endear him to the court, and he suspected he would lose. That was fine. He wanted to get home.

Garin approached the king's chambers, a bold move for someone so low. The guards made him wait as they announced him to the king, and the king nodded. Dirmane was just leaving the king's quarters with a tray of empty tea cups, and the king looked very tired. Garin bowed his head until the king gave him leave to speak. "Your majesty, I do not feel as if I can continue on with this competition. I request to step down."

The king stared at him for a long while, his eyes bloodshot. He breathed heavily before he finally spoke. "Very well, young man. You may go home to your family. I wish you well in life."

"Thank you, your majesty." Garin bowed his head, and left the room walking backwards, for to turn his back on the majesty was a sign of ill will. He felt as if a great weight was taken off his shoulders now, though.

Garin went to his rooms, packed his things, and two guards escorted him from the castle out into the market. The king had looked in ill health, and Garin wondered, briefly, if the king was dying.

-

Dirmane returned to his rooms, leaving his tea tray on one of the tables and using a cloth to carefully wipe up the last drips of tea in the king's cup. He wadded up the kerchief and retrieved the massive chest under his bed, opening it and hiding the cloth at the bottom with the thin vials of poison he carried, now one short. He grinned to himself. It would only be an hour or so, now. And then…

-

Link woke up with the sun in his eyes. His horse was still walking alongside of him, but even slower than usual. He rubbed her neck and muttered words of encouragement to her, and she kept her head down as they plodded along. Link was thirsty, and he knew that her thirst could only be worse because of the running she did yesterday.

"Come on, keep up," he muttered, trying to keep her encouraged. She snorted in response and butted her head against his shoulder. Link looked back; still clear across the desert. Maybe they weren't coming after him? He cleared his throat and held onto that hope.

-

Ganondorf grinned with his sharp teeth, and stepped away from the mirror. He moved on, out to the main hall, where his hundreds of guards waited patiently. His voice boomed across the hall as he announced, "The king of Hyrule will be dead within the hour! In a day, the princess will have perished as well, thanks to drinking the poison of the oleander! You have the day to rest up in preparation for the coming battle, and then we are off to reclaim Hyrule as our own!" His army rose and cheered, pumping their fists in the air.

-

Link was a little surprised at his newfound skill; he'd managed to return to the old campsite of the cannibal women. He immediately led his horse into the pond, and refilled all of his canteens, standing in the water up to his chest. His horse splashed in the water, snorting happily and throwing it around with her mane. Link's skin felt tight and sore; he was burned on his face and neck. The cool water helped to soothe his skin. He was tempted and considering staying the rest of the day at the campsite, but the princess was getting worse with every passing second, and he could not risk her health in such a situation.

-

Dirmane was frustrated. He hadn't gotten a chance to get back into range of the princess' rooms, even with knowledge of the secret tunnels (curiously of which, none went to her rooms), and so he was completely unable to put more of the slow poison into her bed clothes. It would have to do; she would be recovering, and then the boy would come and prepare her tea, and she would drink it, and then she would die a swift death, the boy would be tried for treason and hanged, and Ganondorf could take over the castle, and Dirmane would receive highest honors for his success. He could almost clap his hands with glee. Instead, he forced himself to sit at his desk and act composed, staring at pieces of paper with words written on them that he wasn't actually reading. He was waiting and hoping to hear the panicked screams of someone finding the dead king.

-

Link forced his horse from the pond, drying her back as much as he could with his hands by wicking the water away before putting on her saddle. She snorted in affection and nipped at the top of his head. He climbed on and clicked his tongue as he nudged her with his heels, and she started off at a light trot, working her way up to a full gallop over the sand. Link smiled to himself. They were so close! He was so close to rescuing her and Hyrule, he could feel it! He thumped his palm affectionately against the neck of his horse, smiling.

-

Zelda groaned and coughed harshly, one hand to her mouth. She was on the verge of waking, but not quite there. She knew there were people in her room, and they were talking, but she could not understand them. She groaned again and rolled over in her sleep, restless, hugging one pillow. She felt lighter, as if the fog that engulfed her mind had finally been burned away by some sort of sun. She coughed and barely whispered, "Who is there?"

The maids went silent, staring at the princess. "Did she just speak?" one whispered to the other.

"I believe so." One of them got up and walked over to the bed, gently touching the princess' shoulder. "Your highness?"

Zelda tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry and her tongue felt thick. The maid immediately poured her a glass of water and dribbled a little bit over her mouth.

"Who are you?" Zelda whispered, a little louder this time.

"I am… I'm your handservant, Mila."

Zelda nodded; in the dim recesses of her mind, she recognized the name. "Mila. I am… I am waiting for a boy of my age with blond hair. He is supposed to come. The guards won't let him in, but he must get in."

Mila nodded, then realizing Zelda's eyes were still closed, she added, "Of course, your highness."

"Mila…"

"Yes?"

"Check on my father."

Zelda fell back to sleep, and Mila stepped away, feeling cold. The other maid stood. "What is it?"

"Stay here- I will be back right away." Mila ran from the room, startling the guards, who lunged into the princess' chambers, scaring the hell out of the remaining maid as they looked for anything suspicious.

Mila ran through the castle, her heart pounding. The guards stopped her at the king's chambers. "Please! Please! The princess asked me to check on her father."

"The princess asked?" one of the guards echoed in surprise. Mila nodded. They let her in, and Mila bowed low before straightening and seeing the king, slumped at his table, his eyes closed. She screamed.


	9. Chapter 9

Link buried his face in his hands. They were at the bridge between Gerudo and Hyrule. He'd run out of water, but it was cooler somehow now. "We're very close, girl," he whispered to his horse. He checked on the leaves and flower, and was surprised to find that they had suffered little, the waxy foliage only slightly dented, and one brown line appearing in the petals of the white flower. "Well, of course they don't suffer damage easily, it's a desert plant, yeah? They have to be tough."

But it disturbed him to see it. It was unnatural, wasn't it? He hurriedly put the plant away and directed his horse onward, across the bridge and back into the green lands of Hyrule. His horse insisted on taking her time, ambling and ripping up patches of grass, eating hungrily. Link swore and jerked the reins, shaking his head.

"Come on girl, not like that. We have to go!" She snorted and pulled at the reins in response, and Link sighed in frustration. "Here, chew on this as we walk." He grabbed the pouch again and took out one of the leaves, holding it out to his horse. She sniffed it and snorted, whinnying in response and tossing her head.

"Come on," Link grumbled in annoyance, shoving it at her mouth. She repeatedly refused, and Link sighed, putting it away again. "Just run a little while longer and I'll let you rest up as long as you want." She looked at him and snorted, but started running once more.

-

Zelda rubbed her eyes and groaned, opening them slowly. She winced in the light, turning her head away, and muttering under her breath. Mila was there by her side, as a multitude of maids were, some just wanting to see if she was truly awake. Zelda stretched and sat up, holding her face in her hands for a few minutes and breathing deeply, coughing now and again. The maids held their collective breath, waiting for her to look around at them. And finally, she did, tears running down her cheeks. "He is dead, isn't he?"

They looked at her in surprise. "Yes… your father passed away yesterday, your majesty."

Zelda nodded with a frown. "I know. I had a dream about it." She wiped her tears away with one hand, and Mila draped a heavy robe around her thin shoulders. "It was just yesterday, yes? Have things already been prepared for his burial?" She looked around at the maids, who eyed her in surprise. "I understand I sound impartial, almost cold. But it is my kingdom now, and I will have much to do. These first few hours of my reign are crucial."

She shifted to the edge of the bed and put her feet to the cold floor, shivering, before trying to lift herself off the mattress. But her legs were weak from disuse for the past month, and she fell back down immediately. "Damn," she cursed. "I suppose I will have to conduct my business from here." She climbed back under the covers, and had the maids set up her pillows so that she was propped up. "The first item of business," she announced in a lofty tone, "is something for breakfast." A few of the maids smiled nervously, and Zelda giggled a bit to herself, smiling and shaking her head. "I'm famished!"

-

Link's horse had died. He felt miserable and guilty; he really should have gone easier on her. Was it the strain of making her run so long and so far? Was it because she hadn't eaten enough? He'd finally gotten her to eat one of the leaves from the oleander, and then decided to rest out under the stars for a few hours. Link built a small fire, and his horse laid down next to it and closed her eyes. When he went to wake her and she didn't stir, he was worried that she was too heavy a sleeper. But her massive body was cool to the touch, and he realized he had not heard any sort of horsey sounds as she slept; no gentle snorts, no tail flicking, not even shifting her weight.

Link mourned her for the night, and, unable to give her a proper burial, he unfolded the blanket he traveled with and laid it over her body, then taking dry branches and using the fire to set the blanket alight. It was morning now, though, and he'd spent the entire night after burning the horse walking towards the castle. His feet hurt, the boots worn and tattered, and a troublesome stone that he took too long to take out of his shoe had given him a bit of a limp. On top of that, he'd not shaved in some time, and he was looking like a rough beggar. But he kept his chin up, and kept walking, determined to get to the castle as soon as possible.

-

Ganondorf rallied his troops outside of the fortress. The guards waited in silence across the sands, watching as their lord lifted one hand into the air. A swirling vortex of pure black energy, like smoke, swirled around his hand. Clouds gathered over the fortress, and more of the black energy seeped up from the sand like a fog. The fog collected itself into shapes, and horses started to form from the mist with glowing eyes and smoke trailing from their nostrils. The guards cheered and climbed upon their new steeds. All immediately turned around towards Hyrule, Ganondorf walking down the platform. Underneath him, a plume of smoke blossomed out of the sands, wrapping itself outward into a massive jet-black horse that snorted and started as a trot. He rode through the center of their collective until he was at the forefront, leading them onward through the desert.

-

Zelda was resting in her bed. She was recovering slowly but surely, and torn between trying to assemble her father's funeral, connecting to the people of Hyrule to familiarize them with the idea of her as queen, and recovering her strength by eating and resting. So she did the best she could to do all of them at once. But having to choose the wood for the funeral pyre, the color of the robes her father would wear, and then planning her coronation ceremony, took too much energy, and she relegated most of the decisions to her circle of ladies-in-waiting. When none were in her chambers, she was either sleeping or crying for her father.

She was hoping she still had a few years before she'd have to shoulder the entire kingdom. Zelda wasn't ready to abandon her youth yet. She rubbed her temples with her fingers and looked up as someone knocked before opening the door to her chambers. It was one of her guards; he bowed to her and cleared his throat. "Your majesty, the late king's advisor Dirmane wishes to see you."

-

Dirmane smiled as the young queen reluctantly drank the tea he had prepared for her. She coughed a bit at the first sip, putting one hand to her mouth. "I am sorry, your majesty; too hot?"

"No, just a peculiar taste." Zelda offered him a faint smile of politeness, but he made her skin crawl, and she privately noted to get rid of him as soon as possible. She never understood why her father had taken him on as advisor. There was something sniveling and devious about his mannerisms. She drank more of the tea and coughed some more, shaking her head. "Must… have swallowed funny," she said with a weak smile. "Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Your majesty, these are the early days of your reign, even though you have not yet taken your coronation. This is the most important time to establish a connection with the people, to unite Hyrule as a country again, and not just as a kingdom."

Zelda frowned into her tea as he spoke. She could feel a dizziness coming on strong, and she was trying to fight it. Not to mention that it was sounding as if Dirmane was talking down to her. Her dislike of him, tightly contained under a thin veneer of civility, sprung a leak.

"How dare you act as if I do not realize what my country needs?" She tilted her head up and towards him, frowning. "I have been a princess to these lands far longer than you have been my father's advisor. I was raised to empathize and understand my people, not to be told how to do so by some …" She bit her lip to keep from saying something rather impolite. Dirmane was staring at her, with a coldness and an irritation, and he was struggling to keep it under control. Zelda cleared her throat and coughed again, harshly. She put one hand to her chest and took a deep breath, the air rattling to her lungs. She looked again at Dirmane, and there was a flicker of mad joy in his eyes. Zelda's mouth fell open, and she was stunned. "What have you done?" she whispered. Dirmane took his undrunk tea and poured it back into the kettle, straightening and picking the tray up in his hands.

He headed to the door, pausing. "I suggest you rest up, princess. You don't look so well."

Zelda shuddered, coughing hard, curling up and glowering after him. She would destroy him, this much she would swear.

-

Dirmane managed to put on a worried face in front of the guards. "Her majesty does not seem to be recovering as quickly as we would hope, I am afraid." They nodded, frowning with concern. "I would recommend she get plenty of rest for now, and that any concerns be sent to me to deal with in her place for now." He returned to his own rooms, giddy with excitement. In the end, he'd gotten her to drink the very elixir he'd been poisoning her with. It was far more potent when taken directly, and hopefully she would be returned to the tortured nightmares she'd been enduring.

"And then," he muttered aloud to himself, "that boy will come with the leaves and finish her off."

-

Link crested a hill and sighed with relief when he saw the turrets of the castle. It was one more day's travel if he continued through the night. He stretched his limbs, but it did little to alleviate the ache. Link shook off the pain and got back to walking, his hands in fists. He was going to do it; he would succeed in this task. Link forced himself onward through his parched throat and sore feet, narrowing his eyes against the harsh sun. Link followed a track on the ground towards the castle, measuring the turrets against his thumb.

-

Only a few days travel behind Link rode the Gerudo army on their horses, thundering over the sands and snorting, plumes of smoke rolling around their hooves and from their nostrils. They would storm the castle, slaying any that got in their way, no matter who it might be. They were tired of being trapped in the desert, while Hyrule flourished with beauty and life. Hyrule did not suspect a thing, and certainly no one could stop all of them.

-

The maids sighed wearily, the three of them sitting around the queen's bed.

"I really thought we were onto something," Mila muttered, mending some of the cleaning linens.

"So did I," added one of the other maids, glancing up at the queen between her embroidery stitching. "In fact, I still think that we were onto something. She got better once those sheets got clean, well enough to sit up and talk. She got sick again very sudden."

The third maid shook her head. "Well, she's sick again, so I don't think it matters. I just hope she gets better."

"We all do," added Mila, sighing in irritation with her mending.

-

As the army rode onward, their horses galloping across the sands, a storm cloud brewed in the sky overhead, thrashing and threatening with lightning illuminating everything in purple. The thunder felt as if it was rocking the very foundations of the earth, but the army did not flinch.

Ganondorf had hardly blinked when the dead guard captain was discovered, despite the secretly well-known fact that he'd taken her as… well, not quite a lover, as the term implied there was affection and a romantic connection between them. They shared a bed only on occasion, and that did not soften the near-abusive control Ganondorf retained over his army. "What do you expect? She took a chance and she failed to uphold my standards of never accepting defeat. It is her own fault."

They marched on, even as the sky started to fall around them.

-

Link swore when the dark clouds rolled into Hyrule, and the rain poured down on his head. He was soaked to the skin in barely a half hour, water pouring out of his hair and into his boots.

"Well," he muttered to himself sarcastically, "I'd needed a good shower." But it was bitter cold with the sweeping clouds, and he could feel it keenly inside of him. Link looked up at them, shivering, suddenly suspicious of what the clouds could mean. He never knew he could get such an ominous reading from the weather, but it made him think of the desert, and the evil king in the fortress that had nearly killed him. Link turned back to the castle and forced himself to pick up the pace, running in earnest. The clock was ticking, and he worried about Zelda as he ran. Was she still alive?

-

Zelda was still alive, but barely. Her pulse was a whisper in her throat, and her eyelids twitched with the continual nightmares the elixir delivered to her. She could see her kingdom set ablaze, children running and trying to escape, screaming as they burned alive. Or she saw its shell, years after the burning, the grounds haunted by the near-dead and the destitute. Their fingers were worn to claws, and they seemed to hiss in rage at herself as she saw them, their eyes glowing with madness. And no matter how hard she tried, she could not wake up out of the dream.

Zelda tossed and turned, breathing raggedly, clawing at the bed sheets. Her father's funeral commenced without her, though all of her ladies-in-waiting stood in attendance. The people of Hyrule began to whisper to themselves that their kingdom would fall if the princess would not recover. Many of them believed that she would, in fact, die before the end of the month. Their only worry now was who would take over the kingdom?

-

Link woke up from his quick rest next to a hill. It was still pouring rain, and there was a strange hot wind blowing from the south. He forced himself to his feet, his boots squelching sickeningly around his toes. He sneezed; the moist folds of his clothing had already started to grow a few mold spores. In worry, he checked on the flower; the inside of the bag was dry, and beyond that, the flower had started to grow roots that tangled into a little ball at the bottom of the bag. He sealed it up tight, in case it got too wet, and started walking.

He slipped and struggled in the wet grass, and eventually he took off his ruined shoes and walked barefoot, going onward. His stomach ached because he'd run out of rations a day ago, and he drank the rain that fell, even if it had a sour taste. But the castle grew ever closer to his relief, and it was almost sunset before he reached it. He went into the market, the people around him shying away, pinching their noses. The guards eyed him as a beggar, flexing their hands around their weapons in case he tried to beg for change. Link ignored them to head purposefully towards the castle.

There was something off about it once he did get up to it, and it took him a few minutes to notice; the usual brightly-colored banners of the Royal family were gone, and in their place were black tapestries, snapping in the wind. His stomach dropped; was he too late? Had Zelda died? Link ran to the doors, narrowly bypassing the guards in their bulky armor who ran after him. He got inside, his feet squeaking on the tile. Other guards ran toward him to grab him as the assortment of castle attendants paused in their routine to stare.

"The princess!" Link shouted, his eyes wide. "I've come to save her!"

The guards pushed him down onto his knees and started to drag him back towards the door.

"Please!" he screamed in desperation. "Her father asked me to do this! I must speak with her!"

By some stroke of luck, or a gentle nudge from the goddesses, Mila had been walking towards the main hall to take Zelda's linens to be washed. She stopped dead when she heard the young man screaming, and dropped the sheets entirely, running towards the main hall. "Stop!" she shouted as the guards dragged Link away. They did, and looked up at her in surprise. Mila looked at Link, and though he was soaked through the skin, she could tell he had yellow hair. "The queen requested his presence personally but a few days ago."

"Queen?" Link mumbled to himself. So Zelda hadn't passed, but the king had. He was relieved; she could still be saved.

The guards stared at Mila in bafflement. "The queen requested for this… boy to be taken to her rooms," one of them finally spoke. Mila nodded in response. They sighed to themselves and dropped Link's arms.

He stood up and rubbed where the guards had grappled him, watching Mila carefully. She cleared her throat. "Follow me, please."

-

Zelda had managed to sweat out the poison Dirmani had gotten her to drink over the past few days, and when Mila entered her bedroom, Link left behind in a different chamber for matters of decency (and with a small troop of guards standing at the door, watching him suspiciously), her eyes were half-open and she stared at the ceiling, breathing harshly with her hands gripping the sheets under her. "Your majesty, the young man you called for is here."

Zelda glanced to Mila, then back at the ceiling. She grunted and forced herself upwards, slowly managing to sit up, her stomach cramping in response. "Bring… me… a robe," she whispered.

Mila nodded and helped Zelda stand, wrapping her in a heavy robe of soft velvet. She tied it tightly, combed the worst of Zelda's hair, and wiped her face clean with a cool rag. Mila walked slowly alongside of the queen until they were both sure that her legs would not fail, and together they went back into the meeting chamber where Link waited nervously. He stood when the two women entered, even though his legs ached. Zelda looked him over and nodded once, waving her hand and gasping out, "Sit down."

He did as told, and Zelda sat down in the chair opposite, closing her eyes for a few minutes and breathing deeply. Finally, she spoke again. "I had a dream yesterday. The dream… was that you brought me a flower, promising to restore me to health and save the kingdom."

Link nodded. "I brought it, your majesty."

She looked at him briefly, almost in a glare, as he had interrupted her. Link was shocked by how old she'd seemed to become; there were bags and fine lines around her eyes, and lack of sleep had made her pale, her hair limp and straggling over her shoulders.

"You held the flower out to me, and behind you spiraled a great and terrible darkness." She went back to staring at him, her mouth set in a line. Link stared back, his mouth open in shock. Zelda sighed and let her eyes close for a few minutes, breathing softly. She snapped them open again and stood up, moving faster than she had since she fell sick. She walked to a south-facing window and stared, her eyes wide. "Something is coming," she whispered. All at once, she fell into a heap. The guards shouted and helped to pick her up, hefting her up and carrying her to her bedroom.

Link stood and grabbed hold of Mila, his eyes wide. "I need a kettle with water and a cup, please! It's for her!" Mila nodded once and shook him off, rushing out the door to get the items requested.


	10. Chapter 10

Ganondorf's army had made excellent progress. By the time Link had managed to finagle his way into the castle, they were merely an hour's travel from it on their horses. The spirit beasts knew no exhaustion or hunger; they ran without fatigue. Ganondorf rode at his own pace; sometimes ahead of his men, sometimes mingled among them, letting them move around him like a river. The first of the soldiers to spy the castle turrets let loose a battle cry, and the sound echoed behind him as the others shouted as well. Ganondorf smiled, his lips curling around his teeth.

"ONWARD!" he bellowed over them, and they began to use true speed now.

-

Zelda was starting to come back around when she heard the warning horns going off.

"An attack?" she groaned, as she rubbed her eyes and sat up. The water for her tea was almost ready, and with some reluctant permission, Link had been sitting by Zelda's bed, the oleander leaves already wrapped in a tea ball. Zelda forced herself out of bed, but her legs were weak, and she fell to her knees. Link jumped to his feet and tried to help her up, but Zelda shook him off and stood on her own. She tested her balance, and when it felt safe to trust it again, she moved on and gestured to Mila for a heavier and more regal robe over the thinner one she was wearing. Mila put it on her shoulders and tied it for her, trying to keep pace as Zelda headed to the door of her chambers. The guards snapped to attention.

"Call everyone! Call the reserve forces! Wake up those that are sleeping! An attack force has been spotted, and we must prepare Hyrule for defense!" Zelda barked out orders quickly as she moved, Link half-following her, glancing back at the kettle hanging over the fire. Zelda turned and glanced at him, pointing one regal finger. "You wait here, and watch that kettle, if you are so concerned for it." She turned back and left the rooms, and Link frowned, sitting back down reluctantly, stamping his feet.

Zelda walked quickly down the hall and out towards the main hall. Servants were astonished to see her up and about, bowing hastily. "Get to your rooms!" she snapped at them. "Can't you hear the horns? Get yourselves somewhere safe!" They ran off, the guards breaking from their posts and following her in a slowly-gathering horde.

-

Outside the castle market, the drawbridge was being hastily raised, as fast as its clinking chains would allow. A storm rolled towards the castle, thunder grumbling overhead. Hawkers scrambled to close their shops and tuck their wares away somewhere safe; people locked the windows and doors of their homes. The guards in the high watch towers kept their eyes peeled towards the mass heading their way, able to faintly hear the horses' hooves and screams.

-

Zelda summoned all of her guards to surround her in the main hall. "Inspect every corner, check that all are secure!" she shouted to them. They nodded, taking leave and walking as fast as they could.

She watched for a moment before slipping behind the massive tapestry just beyond her throne, taking a key that was forever tied around her neck and unlocking the hidden door. It opened without sound and she slipped in, walking a short distance into a small chamber. It took her a few minutes, but she managed to find the flint and knife kept on a sturdy wooden table immediately to the right of the chamber entrance and light one of the wall torches.

She looked around the room, studying the few treasures hidden there. Among them were a sword and shield, relics passed down for the royal family from hand to hand, for the first son of the king and queen to wield. Zelda had no brother.

She took them up in her own hands, awkwardly fumbling to bear their heft, before heading back into the main hall. A few of her guards reconvened with her, stunned at her wielding the revered weapons; but really, who else would?

-

Link had rapidly grown tired of waiting in the queen's chambers, and he stormed down to see what was going on. Zelda took her place, standing in front of her throne with several guards on either side, staring ahead at the doors. She was no fool; though the barricades around the castle were good, there were weaknesses that, in the throes of her sickness and father's death, had not yet been mended. Eventually, the Gerudo army would find their way in. Link approached her, and the guards eyed him suspiciously.

"Your majesty," he started. Zelda turned her head and glanced at him, a little thrown off that he had not sunk to one knee and glancing up into his eyes. "I am the one who led them here. I was not strong enough to defeat Ganondorf on his own lands. But I want to help you now."

Zelda looked him over again, weighing it out in her head. There was something in this young man that she was drawn to, beyond their obvious, mysterious connection through the Triforce and the will of the goddesses. "Fine. Give him a sword, and a shield," Zelda called, looking back ahead. A servant, standing panicking in one corner, ran to get the requested items. As they waited, Link could hear the people settling down in their battle positions; the slamming of doors and the rustling of feet; the occasional shout or whisper in the bowels of the castle.

Silence took hold. It was a heavy, dead silence, and on the edge of it was a faint buzz of tension and nerves. The maid barely made a sound when she presented Link with his weapons, but for the shuffling of her feet. He hooked the worse-for-wear sheath around his waist over his belt, and put the shield over his right arm. Zelda glanced at him and arched one eyebrow.

"You use your south hand?"

"Yes… is that so strange?" Link flexed both of his fingers instinctively, self-conscious over this minor trait for a moment. Zelda shook her head with the barest movement, staring ahead again.

-

They waited.

Link could feel sweat down the back of his neck, and his muscles were sore from holding them tense. It could hardly have been forty or so minutes that they stood in silence, watching the castle doors. He glanced at the queen, but she held herself poised and regal, her chin high. Despite having been sick for so long, her skin held a glow, and she stood with purpose, watching the far doors like a cat. Link fidgeted and tightened the straps on the shield; Zelda put out one hand to stop him and hissed at him in a whisper. "Hold still!"

At the edge of Link's hearing, just under the muffled ringing, there were screams and the clanging of swords. It was growing ever closer to the castle, and Zelda lowered her head a fraction. "They've already broken the walls, damn them."

She stepped forward, and the guards around her stepped forward immediately after. The clattering metal and heavy thuds of their steps made the hair on Link's neck stand up for that one second as he stepped forward as well.

Louder and louder the noises of battle grew, and Zelda squared her shoulders, planting her feet firmly on the floor. Unbeknownst to them, Dirmane watched from the shadows, his eyes narrowed. In his hands he held a thin dagger, lightweight and balanced to be thrown a great distance. He pricked his finger with the tip, testing its sharpness, listening to his heartbeat slow and steady in his chest while he waited for the perfect moment.

-

The doors leading to the castle hall were the original doors. They were hand-carved from the trunks of trees that some say were the very first trees the goddesses planted. They were no less than six inches thick, a deep golden honey color, and elaborately decorated with the family crest and filigree carved into the wood. Zelda watched them now as they shuddered with a thundering blow to their center. Again, and again, someone or some people rammed the doors with something massive in size and weight. The doors held as true as they ever had, but their strength and quality could not be said for the pathetic bar of wood that ran across their length to keep the doors from opening.

It cracked down the center at the next blow, and Zelda tightened her grip around the pommel of her sword. Link put his hand on the handle of his borrowed weapon, lowering his head slightly. "One more," Zelda whispered to herself. "Just one more strike, and they have it."

The next strike took longer than the previous few, possibly because those trying to get in had backed up farther than before. With this, the wood bar shattered, Ganondorf's army poured into the castle, and Zelda, Link, and the cadre of soldiers behind them rushed forward with their swords raised.

Dirmane swore and put his throwing blade away; it was near impossible to get a clear shot with the fray in the main hall. He would wait it out.

-

Link held his shield close, wielding his sword, careful of the queen right next to him. He jabbed forward, and failing to hit the man he was going for, he flipped the blade around by the pommel and swung with a step forward. He managed to catch one of Ganondorf's soldiers across the throat, and his opponent fell. Link tried to keep an eye on the queen, but Zelda looked safe, like she was holding her own. She held the sword with one hand as she parried her way through the crowd. The guards tried to keep a barrier around her as well as they could, and they were a far more effective force than Link on his own. He kept pace with them as best he could, the war cries of the two armies and the ringing metal armor making him near deaf.

They were so distracted in their fighting that neither of them noticed Dirmane sneaking up behind the crowd into the fray. With hardly a sound, he took free his dagger again and plunged it into Zelda's lower back. She screamed and arched, flinching; Dirmane already quickly moving back towards the outer edges of the confusion. Link stopped and turned to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Your majesty! Are you alright?!" She whimpered pathetically and staggered, and Link grabbed her, pulling her back from the fray, the guards filling in the gap.

Link held onto her tight, half-carrying Zelda back towards her chambers. She tried to stop him, hissing that she was feeling fine. "You shouldn't be out there anyway! You're in danger being right there, Your Majesty."

Zelda shoved him off and twisted away, arching in pain and falling to her feet again. They held still for a few minutes as Link stared at her in worry, unsure if he could help her up. Zelda forced herself up, looking like she was between crying and screaming with fury. But she stood, smoothing her skirts and glowering at Link, daring him to mock her. He cleared his throat and stepped back. They moved onward, Zelda walking separately from him and towards her chambers. "I would rather be fighting them off, like my own father did," she growled under her breath.

Link stared down at the floor as they walked. "Your father had you to live in his place if something happened to him, Your Majesty. Who will succeed to the throne if you die?"

Zelda shrugged her shoulders. "Whoever my father had written into his will." She waited as Link opened the doors to her chambers. He shut and locked them when they were both inside, and Zelda went back into her rooms, sighing heavily. "I was hoping I would no longer be this way. Being sick. It's that advisor my father took on after the war as part of a peace treaty. He's been poisoning me. I want to send him away, but I haven't had my coronation yet, and I've been so damned sick, and now this war…" She sat down on her bed, rubbing her eyes with one hand. "This whole thing is just a plot to take the kingdom. But we can't let them have it."

Link looked around, feeling a little awkward after her royal majesty's outburst, and his eyes alighted on the kettle. "The kettle!" he cried; he'd forgotten all about it. Link quickly took it off the fire and peeked inside; there wasn't much water left. Hopefully enough for one cup. He found the tea ball and put it into the kettle, letting it steep. Zelda watched him curiously, her brow furrowed. "Your Majesty, this potion… it's supposed to heal you."

Zelda frowned. "Another potion. And who told you it was supposed to heal me?"

"Your own father, the king."

Zelda paused and licked her lips, sighing. "Of course. He knew what was going on all along, didn't he?"

"I don't…"

Zelda turned away and sighed again, frowning. "I think my father was murdered. By that very same man that is poisoning me. We didn't exactly give the Gerudo a fair deal in our peace treaty. Father never really trusted their leader enough to give them a fair deal." She laughed bitterly. "If it'd been more traditional of a treaty, he probably would've given me away to marry into their bloodline and unite our two countries. That's how peace treaties are usually found."

Zelda fell quiet, and Link remembered the steeping tea. There was indeed just enough for one cup. Link handed it over and Zelda stared into the cup, holding it in her hands. The tea was a vivid green and it smelled faintly of honey, even though Link hadn't added any. They sat there in silence once more, Link listening to the battle down below.

It ceased suddenly, and he got up from the chair he'd sat in. Zelda was letting the tea cool in the air, and she watched as Link got up. Footsteps, muffled only a little by the doors, thudded their way. Link grabbed the first sword he found, the one Zelda had been using, and held it high. The footsteps stopped in front of the door, and Link watched in shock as the doors slowly swung open, even though they were still locked. Zelda sat down the cup and stood, grabbing the other sword and putting one hand to her lower back. She could feel wetness, and looked at the blood on her palm in shock. She figured she'd simply wrenched a muscle.

Ganondorf took a slow step into the room, eyeing the two of them. Link again felt the little hairs on the back of his neck rise, and he stepped forward. Ganondorf sighed heavily.

"At first, I was going to do this the subtle way," he started, speaking softly. "Poison her highness, make it look like you did it, have you hanged for high treason against the royal family, and then have one of my henchmen take over the throne, ruling through him." Ganondorf withdrew his sword now, the gleam of madness from a glut of power in his eyes. "Instead, I'll just kill the both of you myself and take over. The other way… well, I still wouldn't be true ruler now, would I? And I was never one for subtlety."

He looked up from thumbing the edge of his sword, testing its sharpness against his finger, before lunging forward and swinging violently with a battle cry. Link lifted his sword aloft and parried the blow, though Ganondorf had put a great deal of force into it. Link could feel the strength in Ganondorf's arms through the swords, and if it were not for the ridiculous calm that surrounded him, he would have been a bit scared of it. Instead, he shoved Ganondorf back and swung his blade upward. Ganondorf blocked it, holding his own weapon horizontally and pushing Link down and back. Link lunged forward again, keeping low and jabbing, trying to find a weak spot in Ganondorf's armor.

But the bulky king was moving much too fast for Link to focus; he struck him in the mouth with the hilt of his sword, and Link stumbled back, tasting blood and feeling a tooth fumble around in his mouth. He spat it out and jumped forward, pushing himself up and jabbing. Ganondorf raised his sword to block him, but Link had an advantage in his speed and managed to pierce one of Ganondorf's eyes with his sword.

Ganondorf roared in pain, clutching his bleeding eye socket with one hand. He bellowed again, ending it on a high-pitched, squealing note. Link fell to his feet and stepped back. Ganondorf slowly lowered his hands from the bleeding socket, and they could both see that his face was melting into a hideous, pig-like visage. Zelda seized an opportunity and grabbed the still-hot cup of tea, throwing it forward. Her aim was true, and the hot water sloshed into his injured eye.

Ganondorf screamed again, the skin hissing and bubbling. The poison in the tea coursed its way into his system, and Ganondorf shuddered, hunched over and hugging himself tight. Link and Zelda remained motionless, stunned as he shuddered and groaned in pain, rocking back and forth. He vomited blood, and looked up at them with murderous hate in his good eye.

Link jumped forward and thrust the sword, trying to stab him in the face again. Ganondorf caught the blade and held it tight, pushing it back, blood running down his arm. Zelda remembered herself and grabbed the other sword, stepping forward and bringing it up, piercing him through the throat. Ganondorf made one choking, gasping sound of pain, and slumped, his grip loosening on Link's sword. They both stood still, watching and waiting for Ganondorf to rear his head again.

When he didn't, Zelda slowly moved back, and Link followed, looking over to her. She stared down at Ganondorf's dead body until a movement in the door frame caught her eye. It was Dirmane, followed by a few of the guards. He gasped in shock when he saw Ganondorf's corpse, looking up at Zelda and Link. Zelda lifted her chin and pointed one finger, her voice booming in the small room. "Guards! Arrest that man for treason!"

The guards looked at Dirmane in surprise before lunging on him, pinning his arms behind his back and dragging him from the doorway. Dirmane seemed to have forgotten any sense of cover as he screamed and kicked, cursing their untimely defeat when they were so close to taking Hyrule for good.

Zelda sighed and sat down heavily on the edge of her bed, putting one hand to her forehead. Link looked around for the teacup, seeing the shattered pieces on the floor around Ganondorf's head. "Your majesty, that tea was supposed to heal you," he explained.

Zelda smiled to herself, glancing at him. "Like I said, I wasn't sick. Dirmane was poisoning me. He admitted it to me himself. With him arrested and his master dead, I should hopefully start to heal." Link sat down at the table he'd been at before, surprised to find how tired he was now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

-

Once Ganondorf died, most of the strange energy that imbued the army and gave life to their horses evaporated. The Hylian army was able to beat them back, and when they got word their leader had been defeated, they reluctantly surrendered. Zelda had her army escort them back across the bridge to Gerudo, and once the army was on the other side, they broke the bridge apart with mighty axes, letting the splinters fall into the rapids underneath. It took but a week for Zelda to get back to her full strength, with plenty of rest, though she always retained an awkward cough in the worst of winter.

Dirmane was held before the Royal Court and effortlessly sentenced to treason and conspiracy to murder the Royal Family once his room was searched and the poisons were found. His sentence was to be drawn and quartered, and then burned alive, but Zelda did not think she could handle the spectacle, and he was beheaded at dawn instead.

Ganondorf's body was completely beheaded and sent back with the Gerudo, along with the broken peace treaty. A new one was drawn up, the gist of which was that neither country would bother with the other on pain of death. Both agreed to send troops to patrol the river that separated them, and though the troops taunted each other across the rapids from time to time, neither tried to launch an official attack.

For his services to the Royal Family and his bravery in not only gathering the plant that would have ultimately killed her but also helping her to defeat Ganondorf, Zelda offered to grant Link anything he wanted that she could give him within her power. Link remembered what the king had offered him in exchange for taking on his task, but it sounded like far too much, even with what he had gone through.

"Your majesty, if it is not too much trouble, I just want a small plot of land for myself, with a little house of my own. Enough land for me to raise some crops and animals for food, and nothing more."

Zelda nodded. "It shall be done."

When Link did get to see his home, it was a three floor, sprawling mansion fit for a lesser Duke, with ten acres of land in each direction. The home was fully furnished in simple, tasteful furniture, with a massive entertainment hall, a complete kitchen, and stocked with servants. As was the stable, with no less than five horses and a groomer for each.

After a month of letting him become used to the place, Zelda went to visit, to see what he thought. She was stunned when she arrived, finding Link working the farm himself with the help of two other farmhands and the horses trotting around free. The servants stopped dead when the royal carriages trundled up to the house, and Link blinked over the cornstalks at the royal banner, feeling a chill of déjà vu.

He wandered out of the field and up to the carriage as two guards helped Zelda out of the carriage and onto the hard-packed earth. Link took off his hat and nodded in greeting, and Zelda curtsied, ignoring the violation of custom. "How have you been faring? Is the house to your liking? Do you have enough servants?" she asked of him, before anything else.

Link looked back at the crop and then towards Zelda again. "Uh, yeah, I've got plenty of all that. The house is a little much though; I've been staying in the farmhand quarters."

Zelda shook her head as she stared at him. "Why would you do that? You could be living like royalty."

Link shrugged. "It's just too big. I'm not used to it, so… I mean, the servants that can't fit in the quarters stay on the second floor, there's so many rooms, and third floor's storage. I meant it when I said I didn't need a whole lot."

Zelda nodded, feeling a little embarrassed. "True, I just thought… what you wanted wouldn't be appropriate for what you did. To be honest, I still don't think it's enough, so I've come to personally invite you to an awards ceremony, in your honor."

Link frowned. "Your majesty, you've already given me far too much, and I do not want this. Cancel it or something."

The queen sighed and looked away, folding her arms.

"Besides," added Link, "It's been an age since all that. Just let it go."

"Fine," Zelda replied casually, glancing at him. "But you're still being given a place of honor."

"Just don't have a big pompous ball about it," Link retorted.

"Fine."

"Fine."

They stood awkwardly for a few moments, and Zelda finally stuck out her hand. "Thank you again," she said, lifting her chin.

Link shook her hand, nodding. "You're welcome."

Zelda climbed back into her carriage, and Link watched them go until they turned a corner. He shook his head and went back into the fields, resuming his work.

When Zelda returned to her castle, she went to visit the monument she had designated. It was a plaque, declaring itself dedicated to Link's brave deeds for the Royal Family, and his courage in surviving the desert. The top of the plaque was intricately carved with the Royal Crest, declaring Link a High Knight of the court. Zelda smiled to herself as she looked over it one more time, and turned away, deciding she would like a cup of tea.


End file.
